


Shadow Revenant Gets Laid

by kiwi___bot



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Aphrodisiacs, Arachnophobia, BDSM, Biting, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Revenant (Apex Legends), Breeding, Character Death, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual Drugging, Crying, D/s dynamic, Drug Use, Femdom, Flashbacks, Frottage, Glove Kink, Gunplay, Guro, Humiliation, Immobilization, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Knotting, Loss of Limbs, Masochism, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Pet Play, Pining, Premature Ejaculation, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Sexual Frustration, Shadowfall (Apex Legends), Size Kink, Sounding, Torture, Trans Character, Trans Lifeline | Ajay Che, Trans Wattson | Natalie Paquette, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires, electro-play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi___bot/pseuds/kiwi___bot
Summary: Shadow Revenant is a grumpy old King who's in some serious need of fucking. The Shadow Legends aim to take care of that.
Relationships: Bangalore | Anita Williams/Revenant (Apex Legends), Forge | James McCormick/Revenant, Lifeline | Ajay Che/Revenant, Makoa Gibraltar/Revenant, Revenant (Apex Legends)/Rampart | Ramya Parekh, Revenant/Wattson | Natalie Paquette, Revenant/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Solo

To be a King is one of the most difficult jobs of all.

There are countless things that one must do, and Revenant finds most tasks dreadfully dull. In many instances, he found himself forgoing the mindless, needless tasks of ruling his realm in favor of some real fun. Be it terrorizing any human who finds their unfortunate path leading into his domain, or perhaps ripping apart any encampments or homes he finds, it’s something to keep him entertained.

But even those have become dull.

And so the King of Shadows finds his days growing longer, dull and losing any hint of violence, terror. He’s irritable, as always, but it seems to swell, burning away his insides like he’s nothing more than the echo of a Shadow himself. His mind and body restless for something. And the rage bubbling inside him since his very inception as a demon on Earth only grows.

His domain is expansive, encompassing all of Kings’ Canyon, and nearly the entire planet as it grows. But his specific lair is hidden, behind the waterfalls of Slum Lakes, encased in vines and deep in a cave. Here, he has made it his own; a room fit for a King like himself. His Shadows have built it as he pleased; a grand cavern, decorated in trinkets and treasures his subjects bring as offerings and gifts. A large, grand throne sits in the very center, carved into a large stone pillar, surrounded by bone and steel and gold, comforted by woven fabrics stolen from humans.

And here, he sits upon his throne, splayed out like a painting of old, his form wispy and dark, glinting eyes staring holes into the wall practically. He’s never felt so dreadfully bored in years, this disgusting mix of anger and restlessness making him ache for blood. But there is nothing to kill besides his own servants, and they are not to be found this evening. Cleared out, delegated to their tasks. Awful.

The King runs his claws down his face, the form barely solid enough for the action as thin wisps of shadows bleed between the fingers. How can one such as he have so little to do? He’s half-tempted to destroy something in here, just to make a shadow pick up after him again, again. But he can’t find the want to do so. In fact, he’s unsure what he really does want.

Another moment passes, and his form solidifies into glinting metals and red fabric. A very, very, very old form. But one that could suit the needs of being solid. His claws trail down his face, memorizing the shape. How long has it been since he’s indulged in sins of the flesh, in sins of passion? And pathetically, he feels steam quickly vent from him, and he does not bother to bite back the growl that leaves him. He suddenly craves a much deeper form of violence, one that could be bloody and unforgiving, and yet he feels-- no, he banishes the self-deprecation from his mind. Just for this moment.

He is alone in this moment. And he should indulge.

A deep, tired sigh, and his metal claws drag down his chassis, the cavern echoing the horrid screeching sound. Pain blooms in his sensors, and it feels so alive that he moans out, voice box crackling from the sound. Such a rare sound. He’s hardly indulged in himself, perhaps once or twice alone. And how sad would that be, if they all knew the King to be a virgin, innocent and untouched in this way?

The claws dig in deeper to the metallic casing of his chest, and drag further down, before he moves to place his hand over his crotch. A deep exhale, and his modesty panel clicks open, his cock sliding into view. In this form, nothing to brag about. But perhaps it would get the job down. His cold hand curls around the base, and he winces at the feeling. And yet, it feels electrifying, his sensors already exploding with the tingling tresses of pleasure.

His hips cant upwards of their own accord, and he cannot stop the sound that leaves him. A single stroke has his other hand balling into a fist, another has him snarling out loud. The pleasure is almost too much, almost painful, and gods, that feels right up the alley of what he wanted.

He moans out, and the sound shocks him this time almost. So weak sounding, so pathetic and sad. He quickly moves his fist to his mouth, biting down on the metal harsh enough to lock his jaw for now, and he continues to stroke, shaking as he attempts to be slow, draw some of this out. And yet the King’s inexperience proves his downfall.

A sharp thrust of his hips into his hand, and he’s spilling onto his lap quickly, optics powering off, sharply inhaling. A quick, less than satisfying orgasm. And it only angers him more than when he first began. He attempts to continue stroking, but the pleasure spirals rapidly into near painful overstimulation, and he’s forced to jerk his hand away from his leaking cock, hissing and sitting up.

How pathetic.

The King waits for his breathing to ease, for his cock to soften and return to its place, for his panel to click shut, before his form fades back into the whispering shadows. And he stands abruptly, slamming a fist into the wall hard enough to watch the stone crack, and he leaves the cavern in fury, feeling so so much worse than when he started.

And he vanishes into the darkness, alone.

Pathetic.


	2. Rampart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (Flashback: Blood, Loss of Limbs, Death) Pining, Immobilization, Gunplay, Premature Ejaculation, Sexual Frustration, Masochism

The King has many subjects, and many forms each get to see, and others do not. He considers a small group of his servants as his closest aides, advisors, and warriors. They each serve a different purpose, and they all are more than accustomed to the King’s… temper.

And it only grows as time passes. Centuries of agony long before he rose to his throne amplified the rage bubbling below the paper mask of the elegant, calm royal, crowned ruler of King’s Canyon. And Revenant’s temper only worsens as time passes, with his victims being those he had kept at the right hand of his kingdom.

Ramya knows their King far more intensely than most others. She’s his doctor, in a sense. (And yes, Ajay is more of a doctor than she really is, but she specializes in like the fleshy bits, and Ramya’s more of a doctor for trucks and stuff.) Still, Revenant seemed to trust no other than her to root around the insides of his mechanical, original form. His oldest that he is rare to show others.

And she should be bloody thankful for that! She’s never seen such a messy set of bolts and wires that Revenant is. He may be able to shift his form, but at the end of the day, he’s a simulacrum with some gnarly abilities, and she’s gotta make sure he doesn’t fall. After all, it is thanks to the hand of her King that she is what she is, who she is.

Alive.

Ramya finishes scraping the rest of the dirt out of her shoulder gears, her eyes examining herself in the cracked mirror. Anytime a Legend is summoned into the direct lair of the Shadow King, they’re expected to look their best. And Ramya ain’t about keeping herself gussied up 24/7, so last minute clean up does nicely.

Her form is 70% mechanical at this point: the remaining flesh burned in some areas from the assault on her, on her livelihood. Back when she was human, years and years ago. Surely, she would have died then, the flames licking her corpse and turning her to ash.

But the King of the Shadow seems to have some moments of mercy.

Vague memories of his form, a barely there shadow as he leans above her, his voice echoing in her fading mind, asking her quiet and slow.

Do you wish to live for me, Miss Parekh?

And between the blood spilling from her lips and filling her lungs, she barely is able to let the yes leave her mouth, and he wraps his clawed hand around her face, and succumbs to a blackness like no other. Her first death was cold, and yet tinged by the edges of the burning dark that Revenant was.

She had awoken again, a new person, a new piece for the King’s crown. Her burnt limbs were unable to be healed or saved, and so she built new ones. One arm left, blinded in one eye, unable to even speak. She picked up the tools as soon as she awoke, and began to build. And Revenant sat at her side, silent as she, and they worked together. First the new arm, the new facial implants next. He kept her warm when the coldness of the caverns pained her, and was her second pair of arms when she struggled to build.

The true fun came when her voice returned. Oh, she could never forget when she practiced in private for weeks in order to lean in one day as he adjusted her mechanical jaw and rasp out, “So in this case, am I the princess ya woke up with a kiss? Are you fancyin’ another?”

The way he jerked away like he was burned, his form turning to swirling black and red shadows, eyes turning bright pink, flustered by her? Oh, she burned that memory right away and made sure to replay it when her motivation waned some days.

For a King, he certainly didn’t know how to respond to her flirting. When she blew silly kisses as he fixed up her throat and jaw, he looked away. When she puts her hand on his arm as he affixes the mechanical pieces of her new one in place, her shives just slight enough that she notices. And when he had to part her legs in order to adjust her knee, tightening the joints into place, she purred out, “Ain’t ya supposed to take me to dinner first, mate?” The King chokes on his words, and his heat only increases.

The memories make Ramya grin as she stares at her form now. Patched and pieced together like a faithfully modded gun, made of bronze gears and painted with designs she liked, she felt more mechanical than human. And it was the way she liked. Ramya had been reborn, fit to serve a King like hers.

Revenant.

She finishes polishing her parts, before she dresses, finding her nicest clothes-- which really was just a white sundress she’s stolen from Natalie, and some black pants made of something nice and flowy. She laces her boots up, and ties her hair back, winking at her reflection.

Yeah, she may be a mechanic for him, but who’s to say she can’t look a little nice like the others do?

The cavern that belongs to Revenant is easy enough to get too. Ramya lives down the path, in one of the old bunkers just next door. Gifted to her by the very King she’s happy to serve, it’s a real dump compared to the lair of Revenant. She’s whistling as she carries her bag of tools in her mechanical arm, walking just close enough to the waterfalls to let droplets splash onto her face and arms and chest. It feels refreshing, the closer she gets to the cave.

When Revenant’s being a grump, she can tell. The whole place feels like a dreadful sauna, and she’s glad she’s dressed lightly, or she’d be sweating like a sinner in a church. Gross. She wipes her brow twice of sweat by the time she’s entered the main hall, and it only gets worse as she bypasses the empty throne, nodding to where Makoa tidies up. And around the throne is an almost hidden passage, enveloped in vines and forbidden to all.

Unless of course you’re Ramya, or one of the other 13 blokes who Revenant trusts.

She pushes the vines aside, wandering down the suffocatingly small passageway. It almost feels like the path to hell, which could be considered Revenant’s room. It’s some slice of hell Ramya’s gotten the pleasure to visit now and then.

She makes sure to spit her gum out into the trash can just by the archway into the room, knowing he’d be ticked off by the sound if she bothered chewing. He didn’t like it, but would never admit that sort of weakness. Thankfully, Ramya reads Revenant like the Sunday papers.

And speak of the devil--

Sitting against the wall upon his bed, eyes shut closed, claws curled into fists, steadying his breathing like he’s been told to by Renee. Cute. Real cute. It doesn’t ever work, but she appreciates that he tries.

“Ey, sorry I’m late,” Ramya calls, dropping her bag down with a loud clink and slipping the portable table off her back. She unfolds it with a single click and slaps the table, grinning. “Time for ya doctor’s appointment, hun.”

Revenant jumps, and he feels more annoyed than relieved at her presence. He lets his head smack back into the stone with a loud crack, and snarls, “Ramya, I asked you to be here at a certain time. I expect you to actually keep track of your--”

His eyes open, and he feels his words catch in his throat when he catches sight of her. Rarely does she dress up for him, and it’s always a treat that he secretly enjoys. But even rarer-- in fact, never-- does he get to see her like this.

Revenant’s optics travel down her frame, starting at her playful grin, and glinting eyes, the mechanical brightening the dim room further. Down her jaw and throat, replaced years ago by his own hands. And over her collar bone, exposed by the low cut of the dress; it’s clinging to her frame, dampened, and exposing the skin and metal beneath.

Her breasts are scared heavily, and would make his mouth water if he were capable. He can clearly see the dark nipples beneath the fabric, hardened just slightly by the cool water that had splashed upon her skin earlier, and he wants to cup them in his hands, maybe slip them into his mouth--

Steam abruptly vents from him, and he snarls to hide it, jerking his gaze away and growling, “--k-keep track of your damn appointments. I’ve been in need of m-maintenance, and you leave your King to suffer? Cruel, cruel Ramya.” As distant as he manages to keep his tone, he still shakes just slight enough that Ramya notices.

At first, she’s a bit confused, tilting her head until she catches sight of herself in the mirror near the King’s nest. While she’s never viewed herself as some bloody sex god, she knows she’s attractive. And seeing herself, delicately dressed yet exposed like a nude, classical painting? Ooooh, she can’t stop the grin that grows on her face.

This is exactly the opening she needed.

“Ain’t I here now, mate? Shut up and lay down, open up, grumpy.” She slaps the table again, and turns back to open her bag, rummaging through the tools and the occasional unloaded pistol for what she needs.

Revenant in turn swallows thickly, standing, his form solidifying into his base. His original. And he avoids looking in the mirror as he passes it, avoids looking at Ramya longer than needed as the King slips onto the table, laying back and breathing shaking, internally bypassing the proper codes in order to get his chassis to open.

Over a hundred times he’s probably been exposed to her tools, but it feels different this time. Probably because he’s called her for more than just simple maintenance tonight. No, as embarrassing as it is, he’s got some… intimate troubles. The thought alone makes him mortified, and he knows it will be worse asking Ramya for any sort of… advice or help. But he trusted Ramya like no other, and if he didn’t ask her, he’d be forced to suffer alone.

His silent anguish is unnoticed by she, who instead has pulled out the shelf from the table’s underside, setting down the necessary tools before she pulls up a chair, lowering the table until Revenant is at hip level. She leans over, her scarred flesh fingers and thin mechanical ones reaching into his chassis.

“You’re going to feel a pinch.”

And indeed, there is. More of a shock, really, but it’s practiced and normal. He grunts, then tests as normal. Immobilized, still, unable to move an inch. A precaution she’s used since the early days when his instinct was to attack anyone rooting around in his delicate innards.

Now, more of a habit than a necessary action. Still, it has its benefits. It’s surprisingly calming to be still like this, at Ramya’s merciful hand. She always found the right words to soothe him when before it would induce horrible anxiety. Nowadays, he’s thankful for it as… when she roots around inside him, she’s not exactly gentle, and each brushing touch sends signals to his servos to open his modesty panel and… yeah. Thankfully, the command she uses overrides everything, so it keeps him under check.

Uncomfortably aroused and all.

Meanwhile, Ramya has taken a hard candy into her mouth to suck on, easier for Revenant to deal with regarding the noise, and she hums, “Looks like someone’s been fighting again. C’mon ya plonker, how come ya always go and ruin the fixes I do, hm? Bloody right idiot, you are.” Her tone is playful despite the words, as she reaches in to buff out dents on the inside, to fix wires and solder them back into place.

Revenant’s optics would flutter shut if they could, and his voice is locked inside his chest, allowing him to lay and take it. Silent as she once was. And he’s thankful, because God, the pain is ricocheting through his entire frame and making him mindless. Only able to focus on the pleasure bleeding through his circuitry. And as slick as he might think he is, Ramya knows.

How couldn’t she? She watches with a quirky smile and a raised eyebrow as his optics become unfocused, especially when her fingers catch on thick wires traveling down his spine. She waits a moment before she trails her pinky along it, watching how Revenant’s edges tinge with wisping smoke. Her nail catches along the rugged cable as she moves it back up, and Revenant doesn’t even seem to register that the movement is deliberate.

Revenant would arch up into the pleasure if he could, his breathing still even even as he wants to moan and plead for more. His optics travel back down, and focus again on her breasts. He drinks in the sight of that beautiful, scarred flesh, and he wishes he could press her into the wall, and service her the way she deserved.

If it wasn’t for Ramya’s damn programming, he would’ve cum at the thought, and wants to whine at the denial of his orgasm. Suddenly, it’s too much, too quickly, and he wants to cry out and tell her to free him. But then she’s got her mechanical hand on his cheek, and his gaze flickers up to her eyes, dark and bright, and she hums, “Shhhh, I got ya. Ramya’s here.”

She’s climbing onto his lap now, as she reaches both hands back inside him. She unlocks his vocal processor, and his head and neck as well, and he cringes when the pathetic gasp exits him.

“Ramya, what are you--” He snarls, but she’s petting his wires again with the same precision as her maintenance, and he melts quickly, head arching back as he shudders just slightly. “Ramya--”

“Just shut up, Revenant.” The way she whispers his name makes him groan, and he watches as she leans down, moving her deft, thin fingers along his face. “You didn’t call me for maintenance, did ya?” She coos, and he knows he’s been caught when she’s got her playful smile again.

He wants to grip her hips and fuck her proper, but damn, she’s got most of his body under lock still, and he grunts out, “Ramya--” But he knows she knows and he turns his head away, feeling shame burn inside him. He swallows thickly, and huffs, “I… have an issue.”

“Of course, ya got plenty of them, plonker.” Her playful tone would be downright infuriating if she didn’t make him so fucking warm inside. Revenant swallows again, as she continues, “But I ain’t a therapist, mate. I can work magic, but I think ya too far gone for anythin’ I can do. So what do ya really need me for, mate?”

“I--” God, he’s burning hot at the idea of admitting this. “I have-- an issue with…” He closes his eyes, and he growls, “I don’t-- have any experience. With-- with--”

“Sex? I coulda told ya that, hun.” Ramya casually twirls a loose wire around her ring finger, watching how Revenant chokes and arches again the best he can. “You as much of a virgin as Witt acts like. Except ya actually haven’t gotten some. It’s kinda tragic, really.”

“Shut up, Ramya--”

“But it’s an easy fix. I think I got just the solution, ya know. Quick to the draw is ya first problem.” She slips off his lap, and suddenly drops her pants, wriggling out of her dress. Revenant stares with wide optics as she’s stripped down to her underwear, and she reaches into her back tugging out two items that really had no business being together, in Revenant’s opinion.

A small vibrating wand, and a Wingman.

Ramya moves back to Revenant, setting them both at his side as she reaches back into him. One click later, and his panel slides aside, revealing his very obviously leaking cunt. She climbs back onto his lap as he splutters, shame and lust flooding the simulacrum. She settles the wand between them with a happy whistle, then clicks the safety off the Wingman, shoving it right into his core.

“Here’s the deal, Rev,” Ramya begins, ignoring how Revenant jumps and gasps. “Imma teach ya how to not spill before ya begun. So we’re gonna play a game. You and I are gonna have a wee go with this toy here. And you’re gonna cum after me, sounds fair?”

Revenant swears, feeling the throb of his valve, already teetering close to the edge of an orgasm, the wand settled between their clits and how close she is to him. The Wingman in his core, digging in in such a painfully, scary way, he’s sure he would cum in seconds. “....And if I don’t?” He growls lowly, eyes locking with hers. Ramya smiles.

“I’ll kill ya.” And she clicks the wand on.

The powerful vibrations for such a tiny toy should be unfair. But Revenant’s whole frame jerks despite being immobilized, and he cannot stop the shriek that escapes him. His cunt throbs intensely, spilling more slick and soaking her hand, the toy, and her panties. She grins, so fucking beautiful that Revenant can’t think, can’t tear his gaze away, watching her mouth form into a beautiful O shape as the pleasure seems to affect her too.

The King would thrash, scratch and cling to her if he could. But he can’t. He can only endure, only lay there and make such ungodly, pathetic sounds. He can’t do this, he cannot, he can’t--

“Ramya, please I--” He’s choking on his words as he rapidly tumbles down towards the brink of release. His whole body is overcome by the vibrations, and he’s practically sobbing as he grunts out, “I’m going to-- I can’t--!!! Ramya!!!”

Ramya hums, tilting her head to one side as she gasps, “Ain’t that sad, mate?”

She pulls the trigger, and the empty click is drowned out by Revenant’s snarl as he cums, hard and fast, squirting lubricant onto their laps. He’s shaking and thrashing his head back and forth, gasping and pleading, “Ramya, please, too much, Ramyaramyaramyaramyaaaa--!!”

She takes mercy on him, clicking the toy off despite the needy throb of her own cunt, panting slightly as she watches him tremble, coming down from his high. He looks ashamed almost, and that’s a tragedy. She leans down, her breasts pressing against his open chassis, and she kisses his jaw.

“That’s alright mate. We just need some more, practice, hm?”

Ramya fixes up Revenant nice and neat for the night, cleaning him off before she unlocks his frame, closing his chassis for him and helping her exhausted King to his nest. He’s passed out in seconds, still trembling from the intensity of it all, and she’s almost tempted to climb in right with him.

But Ramya’s got work to do. After jerking off to the memory of it all, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	3. Gibraltar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Pining, Frottage, Blood, Guro, Premature Ejaculation, Sexual Frustration, Masochism

One of the things that a King really needs to live comfortably is a true aide, right at his side. Catering to his whims, cleaning up after him, bringing him things he asks for. And who could be a better person for the job than Makoa?

And Makoa was all too pleased to be helping his King.

Years ago, longer than one could remember, Makoa was born anew in a laboratory. They had taken a broken and battered body, wounded from some terrible accident, and stitched together a new warrior for their own use. Makoa was created to be a tool, a monster for the old collection of evil known as the Syndicate. His skin was gnarled and bruised, stitched together like he was a test for some medical student.

And he was a test. A test to see if they could raise the dead. They made him train, made him fight, made him get stronger, stronger. Until he could rip apart metal and flesh like paper. The bloodshed only anguished him-- Makoa could hardly remember his life before, could only echo the softest name of Nic again and again in the cold cell at night. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t think of anything comforting. Just a tool.

How many did the Syndicate force him to slaughter? Enough that Makoa couldn’t even remember their faces. They became this blur of screams and cries, haunting him every waking and sleeping hour. He could only curl in on himself when he was locked away, and cry silently. Their names were another check on a paper, and the Syndicate was cruel, distant and aloof to how it hurt him.

How much the nameless monster cried when he was force to kill another failed Syndicate test.

Until one day, he was roused from an uneasy slumber to the sound of bloodshed. To the sound of something other than himself causing terror and chaos. The monster creeps to the edge of his cage, powerful hands tearing open the bars when he realizes the electrical charge is down. He had shuffled out into the hall, horrified at the mess of debris and blood dripping down the walls. And in the midst of it all…

The King. Wisping shadows, whispering darkness surrounding and encompassing his form. Powerful and glowing embers cracking through his frame. And his head whips around, blade drawn and ready when he notices the monster staring. But he approaches, and the monster does not charge.

Makoa stumbles back and falls, and the blade is at this throat. He can only swallow, staring at the King, and his frame trembles beneath the power. The King tilts his head, and he leans down, his other hand warm and comforting upon Makoa’s cheek. And he softly whispers to him.

You are like me. A tool for their disposal. Come with me.

And Makoa does not hesitate to nod. And he feels his energy fade quick, and his world blackens.

Revenant, the King, located his name by the time he awoke. Makoa Gibraltar, he had told him, in his low, rumbling voice, his warmth breathing life back into the Monster. And Makoa rolls his own name in his tongue slowly, voice hesitant until Revenant nods approvingly, his claws petting the short, choppy hair of his new servant. Of his Monster. Makoa.

And since that day he’s lived again, Makoa is happy to serve Revenant. Of course, he isn’t meek and broken like he was with the Syndicate. He’s joyous and jolly, happy as he cracks jokes with the others and keeps everyone in line. He is more than an aide; he is family. He is the life of the Shadows, and Revenant seems to know this as much as Makoa does.

Which is why Makoa gets away with so much. He can tease Revenant, call him silly names, even pick him right up when he’s throwing a famous fit, and Revenant lets him get away with it. Cute.

Makoa found it ridiculously cute. The years he’s spent with Revenant, he’s learned to memorize his little quirks and tics, and how everything seemed to affect him. He knew how fond he secretly was of Ramya, and how the soft spot he had for his guard, and everyone in between. The one thing he was unsure about though was… how the King viewed Makoa.

I mean, after all, he took him in when he realized how they both were pawns of the Syndicate, and didn’t find his stitched, green skin gross or terrifying. He told him they were one and same, once when Revenant woke from a nightmare, shaking and weak from screaming out for help, curled up in Makoa’s arms.

Makoa knew how much he loved Revenant. But he wasn’t sure if Revenant could ever feel the same way.

And now, Ramya’s made a move.

The thought echoes in his mind, replaying the noises he’s heard from the King’s lair the other night. She had slipped out late, topless and whistling, nodding at Makoa who politely nodded in return then returned to his tasks. But he cannot stop thinking about it. The way the King shrieked like he had been burned, and yet pleaded so dearly for more.

What had Ramya done to get their King to submit like so? Makoa’s face flushes as he tightens up wires wrapping a support beam in the bathing room, brushing dust off it. The sounds haunt him like a shadow, swirling in his mind and not letting up. He huffs, trying to focus on his job. He folds up towels and slips them onto a shelf before sitting down on a bench, arms folding across his chest.

Ramya fancied Revenant as much as he did. He knew this. The times they conversed quietly both so enamoured with the King it was almost absurd-- and she got to him first. He’s not jealous that she had him-- no, not at all-- just a bit miffed he couldn’t have been the first one to bring his King pleasure.

No matter. He’d just have to be the next.

His chance comes sooner than he expects. He’s cleaned up the hot spring for his King, and follows him from his lair, keeping a towel folded over one arm. “I’m just sayin’ Brotha, keeping the prowlers cooped up in Pit ain’t doing much for ‘em. No one would judge ya or question it if you let them roam free.” He hums, keeping pace with the briskly walking King.

Revenant is quiet, has been for the last few days, and he simply grunts, rounding the corner into the room. “I do not fear or wonder what others would thing. Practically speaking, it wouldn’t be any different,” He grumbles, his form fading into one of bones and teeth, furs draped along his frame. An old, Godlike form that takes Makoa’s breath away each time.

“Practically speakin’--” Makoa cannot look away as Revenant begins to strip. “They’d be more likely to listen to ya if they’re happy. You and I both know how grumpy them little guys can be, Brotha.” His eyes roam the bare expanse of bone and metal, and he takes the furs away so that Revenant can sink into the water.

A soft groan, and he leans his head back as he rests in the heated pool, optics fluttering shut. “Fickle little things… I will consider moving them to something larger, Makoa.” The King stretches out his arms, watching the cloudy water swirl around himself. The natural spring is the only ambiance between them, as Makoa thinks quietly, laying the towel along a rack and setting the furs into a bucket for later washing.

At this point in their ritual, Makoa would leave his King to bathe, and return later to aide him in redressing. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he turns and moves to stand at the edge of the pool. “Ramya and you had a thing the other night, Brotha.” Makoa watches as Revenant flinches, sitting up abruptly, maw falling open to try and snarl something. Makoa doesn’t let him speak, quickly continuing, “I heard it, Brotha. You were quite loud.”

The Shadow King can only splutter, his words lost as he flusters and tries to divert the topic, find anything else to chatter about. Being reminded about his pathetic performance--

“May I join ya?”

“Excuse me?”

“In the bath, brotha. May I join ya?”

The room falls silent once more, the slow pour of the spring into the hot bath filling the room thickly. It seems to get hotter, as Revenant finds himself heated with embarrassment. Anger even, at himself for being so damn flustered about-- about-- “F-fine.”

Makoa breaks into a bright beam, and he turns to strip down, as Revenant sinks lower into the water. His glowing eyes watch curiously as Makoa’s back is first exposed, rippled with muscle and stitches. Powerful. The other could snap a weaker being in two, and Revenant has seen it before. The very sight makes him shudder, especially when he gets a nice eyeful of the other’s toned backside, plump and perfect. Would it bleed easily if Revenant sunk his fangs into it?

The thought instantly overrides the code keeping his modesty panel closed, and the King jumps, cursing lightly as he tries to depressurize his cock, put it away, anything. He is thankful to all high heavens that the water is cloudy enough to hide it. He keeps his gaze averted now, silent as Makoa slowly slips into the water before him, letting out a small laugh.

“Maaaan, this feels great. Much better than those showers over in Containment!” Makoa chuckles, dipping his head back to soak the long, luscious locks that he’s grown over the years, slow and steady. His hair flows over his shoulders, sticking to the skin when most of the water has rushed out, and he smooths a hand over his head, grinning at Revenant.

Like he wasn’t just talking about Revenant and Ramya’s sexual relations a minute before. Classic Makoa. Revenant just huffs, his claws cupping his aching length and attempting to keep it hidden. But the touch alone makes him shiver, and he bites back any noises, a low growl just emanating from him.

Makoa stops laughing, and he offers this soft, beautiful smile that makes Revenant’s heart jump and his body ache to touch him. The stronger man slowly makes his way closer, and Revenant snarls weakly, flinching away. “Dontcha worry brotha, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” Makoa coos, and he wraps one powerful arm around Revenant, sitting at his side. His other hand moves to gently scratch at his scalp, between his horns, and Revenant can’t help it.

His body seems to melt against Makoa, and he moans softly, the feeling euphoric and unlike anything he’s felt. A weird noise is leaving him, and he would recognize it later as purring. But for now, he’s weak under Makoa’s touch, relenting so easily.

A part of him is afraid. He’s never given up control so easily, so quickly. Ramya got him by surprise, which it was much easier to submit to. But Makoa is easing him into it slow and steady, and Revenant is afraid. He whimpers weakly, but Makoa shushes him softly, shifting the King into his lap as he mumbles, “You’re okay, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, Rev. You’re safe with me, ya know that, brotha.”

And Revenant knows it. But the shame flooding him makes it so so difficult to submit. And he growls in response, but doesn’t fight against the hold. Makoa flushes deeply when he feels something poke into his belly, and he has a feeling he knows what it is. His own cock begins to slowly thicken.

Revenant gasps gently, going rigid when he feels that massive cock of Makoa’s press into his backside. His other panel clicks open instantly, his valve aching to be filled, and he lets out a mortified hiss, burying his face into Makoa’s neck.

“I am pathetic,” Revenant growls, digging his claws into his fists. Makoa chuckles, rubbing a hand up and down Revenant’s spine, enjoying how she shivers beneath the touch.

“Nonsense, brotha. You’re perfect,” He breathes out, and he shifts them until his cock is pressed against Revenant’s. The King’s breath hitches, and he looks at the water, wishing deeply he could see how Makoa’s cock dwarfs his easily. He can feel how fucking massive it is. As ashamed as he is for being so damn needy, he relents, letting out a small plea.

“Makoa-- touch me, please.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” His powerful hand envelops both their cocks, stroking slowly, and his eyes widen at how violent Revenant reacts. He jerks backwards, snarls fading into shrill cries. So unused to being touched, to being pleasured. It’s cute. Makoa chuckles again, and he tugs Revenant close until the shadowy demon has his face buried into his shoulder, his sharp teeth so dangerously close to digging into the stitched flesh. “You’re cute, real cute. Just let Gibraltar handle it, brotha.”

“Makoa--” But the words are drowned by the second wave of pleasure as Makoa strokes again, firmer this time, and he lets out another pathetic cry. Revenant wants to bite down, and muffle his noises that mortify him. His hips fuck upwards into the powerful hand, sliding pleasantly against the other’s length, and his long, mechanical tongue slips out as he pants. “Pl-pl-pl-”

“Shh, dontcha worry there brotha.” Makoa kisses the side of his head, as he rumbles, “Indulge yaself, ain’t no one here but us. Go on.” And he offers up his neck and shoulder for the King to take as his, biting his lip in anticipation.

And does the King take.

Revenant bites down harsh on the flesh offered so eagerly to him, maw piercing the skin and blood bubbling free from the wounds. Makoa sharply yelps, eyes shutting as his cock jerks in his hand, throbbing insistently against Revenant’s own aching length. The taste of the other, the blood and flesh against his mouth, his tongue. It’s positively orgasmic, and Revenant would cum then if Makoa’s grip hadn’t gotten so tight, it’s edging on painful.

He sinks his teeth deeper to choke down his cries, optics rolling up in the back of his head as he tries to fuck harder into that grip, but he can hardly move. Fucking Christ, Makoa--!! He can’t stop his voice from projecting into the other’s mind, echoing deep and true. His frame heats up further, noting just how pathetic he sounds there too. Please, let me fucking cum, now!!

“Patience, brotha--” The larger man’s voice is shaking and strained and he slides his fist down to the base of their cocks, squeezing it and moaning sharply when Revenant bites harder in response. “P-patience. I g-got you, okay?”

Revenant pulls his maw off Makoa’s shoulder, tongue darting to lick over the bleeding, fresh holes he’s left behind. Seeing his beautiful monster, marked as his--? God, it makes Revenant hungry, so so hungry. He lunges forward, now biting down on the other shoulder with more intensity. Makoa cries out, burying his face against Revenant’s horn and panting harshly, now stroking quick and desperate. “Brotha-- Revenant-- fuck, you’re so-- oh god--” His voice wavers, unsteady and dripping with arousal, and Revenant feels his orgasm rapidly approach.

Please, just a bit longer-- I can’t--

“C-cum for me, cum for me, it’s okay, brotha-- C-cum for Gibraltar--” Makoa rumbles into his auditory receptors, and Revenant’s gone. His vision goes white as he cums so hard, his form nearly dissipates, and he jerks, the sound of tearing flesh and skin muted by the sound of his own harsh, muffled shrieks.

He goes limps against Makoa’s chest, fangs slipping from his flesh, panting weakly, body jerking and shaking as Makoa keeps stroking. “M-makoa--!”

And Makoa kisses his head and grunts sharply, and he’s spilling into the water with a low snarl that reminds Revenant how powerful, how wonderful this creation of Evil is. He reaches his shaking claws to hold him, to seek comfort, feeling so so weak and alone suddenly, and Makoa gathers him in his arms and whispers, “You did good, so so good, brotha.”

Revenant is weak, tired and sleepy all at once, only able to watch with quiet pants as Makoa cleans his bleeding wounds off, stitching them closed quickly so he can tend to Revenant. He finishes bathing him for his King, before carrying him out of the hot water, wrapping him in a towel.

The shame and disgust from appearing so weak is muted almost, but not quite. And Revenant falls into a fitful rest as Makoa takes him to best, tucking him in. The monster leans in to kiss his King on his forehead, before he leaves, heart soaring.

He’d have to bathe with his King again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	4. Bangalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (Flashback: Death) Pining, Pegging, Femdom, BDSM, Cock and Ball Torture, Blowjobs, Premature Ejaculation, Sexual Frustration, Masochism

One thing every King needed in his empire was an army. And who better to lead the army than the Soldier?

Anita Williams once was a soldier in a previous life: known as Bangalore. No, more than a soldier. She was a leader, burning bright with a fire like no other. Countless men she’s led, both to and from the battlefield. Legendary for the fact that not a single man in her platoons was ever lost.

An efficient strategist, and an even more powerful warrior, she excelled when commanders before her could not. Anita Williams was brilliantly strong, and her family could not be more proud. Her soldiers beneath her leadership couldn’t be more thankful. And her superiors praised her countless victories, awarding her each time with a medal more prestigious than the last. Everyone in her life was joyous and grateful for her skill.

Almost everyone.

Who could have seen a mole within her loyal troops? One who’s sabotaged the weapons, the supplies, tipped off the enemy. One by one, wave after wave, the soldiers so trusting of Anita died, useless weapons clutched in their hands and mowed down by an enemy so thirsty for blood, they would be seen as nothing more than monsters.

And Anita herself fell. She threw her body over her brother to save him, and died slowly, body riddled with bullets and broken. She was carried off the field in silence by Jackson Williams, and what remained of her army wept along with the family. Bangalore, the undefeated, had been slain.

Her body was brought to be buried in King’s Canyon, where she had first enlisted. They dressed her in beautiful fabrics of reds and greens, replaced war paints with decorated lines of paint, and braided flowers into her curls. She was almost alive, in her final moment of death, and they buried her with her medals and her prized G7. They laid her to rest, and the Canyon became still.

And yet Bangalore did not rest.

An angry spirit cannot rest. And Anita was angry. Betrayed, and enraged at how she had failed, how one of those soldiers she had trusted with her life had led to the loss of it. Her spirit was formless, swirling and angry as she at at her grave for what felt like eternity. She didn’t know where to go. No one saw her, no one spoke to her as she cried for them to see her. Isolated. Alone.

But not alone.

Anita had sat at her grave, uneasy, unrested, for years. When they visited for more flowers, they didn’t respond to her. And she learned not to say anything anymore. Especially when the visits stopped. Her fire had dimmed down, threatening to flicker out. Until one day, she felt another presence. A warmth burning bright as she once did. And when she found the energy to look up, it was He.

The Shadow King offered his hand, as formless as hers, and whispers out to her:

Would you like to fight for my army, Lieutenant?

Anita does not hesitate. She locks hands with the King, and everything fades out. She’s floaty, lifeless, and gone in a breath. Until she awakens besides the King, who’s shadowy form leans over her, his claws placing a black flower into her hair as he hums. Welcome back, Captain.

It takes months for the soldier to learn how to find herself once again. She’s another wisping shadow on the wall. But the King teaches her. Teaches the spirit how to find the form she finds best. And throughout the years of anguish, she finds peace with her buried self.

She learns a soldier is not weakened when dressed in the burial clothing of their family, nor when they wear flowers curled into their locks. The painting of her death becomes the war paint of a new future. And Anita learns to move on from her subordinate’s betrayal.

Anita Williams is reborn, commanding the armies of her new King.

Just like the others, time creates fondness for those you learn to care for. Anita finds Revenant a fickle little brat, as much as she respects him. He’s prone to tantrums, and takes his rage on the echoing shadows she helps him lead. He breaks things and acts all around like a bit of a brat.

It’s cute, if not annoying.

Anita doesn’t have the same gentleness for Revenant that Ramya or Makoa or the Guard does. She’s honest when the others find difficulty saying it, and she doesn’t sugarcoat it or hide it with a joke. Perhaps it’s why she and Revenant butt heads so damn much.

Not to say she doesn’t appreciate him. She would have faded into nothingness without the King finding her and taking her as his. But sometimes, she knows someone should slap some sense into the damn monarch. She’s met guys like him. Hot-headed, full of themselves, usually Chihuahua-ing it. FNGs. Typical. Revenant is old, older than most of them, and yet he still acts like a child when they don’t get candy.

Endearing sometimes.

Though, a part of Anita thinks Revenant needs a good stern talking to and maybe some punishment, she can’t help but feel like it won’t get through his thick skull. Revenant needs some real, one-on-one training. But what? She’s been pondering it for weeks now, finding it distracting her from her normal war plans. After all, the planet won’t conquer itself, but she really needs to get this solved before her focus goes AWOL.

Her idea comes when she catches Gibraltar leaving Revenant’s private quarters.

Makoa’s got only a towel on, with fresh stitches in both shoulders, and he looks like a deer in the headlights when Anita passes, scrolls tucked under an arm. She pauses, raising one eyebrow as he sheepishly chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling away to his own room. He doesn’t offer an explanation or excuse, but Anita ain’t an idiot.

And suddenly, the answer she needed is in plain view.

It takes some favors to get the tools she needs. After all, being a spirit, she’s formless most days, and she hasn’t had an itch to scratch for years now. But now she’s got it in her head, and it’s dug its heels into the trenches and won’t make its way out. So she gets something custom ordered from the inventor, and Natalie is all too smug to provide what she needs.

Anita would be embarrassed almost if she didn’t know what the little Vampire got up to with the Witch.

She’s nearly perfected the art of being solid enough to touch, just doesn’t need to nowadays. But now, she’s got reason. She actually gets the Wolf to find her some clothes, real clothes instead of her normal wipsy outfit, and practices wearing them, examining herself in the mirror.

They fit well enough, and that’s all she needs. A white button up, open to allow her breasts to be just barely seen along the edges, and black slacks. And beneath that, she wears leather straps, holding a solidly firm cock, constructed to her specifications by Natalie. She has to practice a little bit to extend her form and self to be able to feel the toy. So when she grips it through her slacks, the jolt of pleasure shows it to be working.

And she tucks a box under her arm, containing the extra treats she has for her King, and she walks towards his lair. She knows he’s there, angry and throwing a normal fit when he realizes a building in Swamps has crumbled due to age. Set off by the littlest things. Typical.

The curtains to his room are drawn shut, but a Captain waits for no one, so she rips them open, her steel-toe boots announcing her normally silent arrival. “Hey jackass, done pouting?”

Revenant growls from his place at his desk, papers sprawled out. He’s actually reviewing those documents she made for him. Wow. He jerks his head around, shadowy form burning brighter as he gets ready to berate her. But then he freezes staring at her like he’s never seen her before.

And he hasn’t. Not like this. Her chest and abs exposed, her slacks bulging with the hardness of the toy, and her hair tied up tight, void of the flowers that made her seem much softer than she really is. She smirks, cocking her head to one side, and yeah, she likes how flustered he seems.

“I asked you a question, soldier. Done throwing a bitch fit?”

“Anita, what is the meaning of--”

“That’s no way to talk to your commander.” Bangalore snaps sharply, and Revenant jumps, recoiling a bit. Taken aback she spoke to him like this. She doesn’t hesitate, pointing to the bed as she barks, “Get over, and drop. That’s an order soldier.”

And there is a long pause. One where she stares hard at him, her glowing eyes betraying the hard expression. Wordlessly asking for his permission, awaiting any sort of denial. She’d throw away the tools and they’d never speak of this again if Revenant didn’t consent.

But he does. And he listens. He stands, his form wispy and burning as he slowly shuffles to his bed, sitting upon it. His glowing embers bore right back into her, challenging almost, but curious. Wondering what his soldier was getting up to?

She approaches him, and the box is thrown onto the bed. His eyes briefly flicker to it, before locking back on her. Before he can ask anything, she huffs, “Human form. Now.” The glowing embers widen, and his hands ball into fists, but he feels-- compelled, to listen. So he does.

The shadows fade away, and he can’t even look at himself when he’s left in this form. Pale skin, eyes still glowing with the hellfires, blonde hair smoothed back, and dressed nicely. An assassin is what he used to be. Until the day he regained his memories, and he realized he was nothing more than a tool. The birth of the King.

Anita was told the story once, when she herself lamented about her lost past life. Revenant had sat by her side, and quietly told her of his tale. And he showed her once, and she found his form then as beautiful as now. All forms of his; perfect and ethereal in a terrifying way.

She chuckles a bit, and her rough hand grips his chin, making him look up and into her eyes. “Perfect. Little cutie, you are.”

“Anita--”

“I didn’t say you can talk, soldier.” Anita leans in, thumb brushing over his lips. He’s too damn pretty, it should be illegal. The perfect pout, those bright eyes burning with shame, lust, and something more, and his soft skin. She wanted to ruin him, but also show him just how wonderful he was. Help him squash out the bad, and uplift the good. “You got a safe word?”

“No.”

“Then for you, it’s Foxtrot, got it?” She presses her thumbs at his lips, and is pleasantly surprised when he parts them for her, mumbling an agreement. Anita nods, and then she jerks his head up harshly, growling, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you, jackass. You and I both know you probably like it rough. Am I right, or am I right?”

“Y-you’re right.” The stutter makes Revenant flood red hot with shame, but this time, it makes his cock jerk, unrestrained by any modesty panels now. Flesh and pliable, half-hard. Just what Anita needed for her plans. She shoves him back, and suddenly her boot is pressed to his crotch, firm and unforgiving. Watching the way his ember eyes widen in shock and a pained hiss leave him is lovely.

“Strip. And you will address me as Sir. Am I clear?”

“....Yes… Sir…” Revenant swallows his pride, and his shaking hands move to unbutton his vest. Every movement makes her press in just that bit harder, making his head cloudy with pain and pleasure. A strange mix that’s so much different than the pain he’s experienced before. He bites back a whine as he shrugs out of the vest, then practically ripping open the button up, exposing his pale, unmarked chest.

Anita thinks about maybe taking a knife to the skin sometime. Yeah, she knows Rev’s kinky ass would like that. She chuckles to herself, just digging her heel in a bit more when his eyebrow quirks up, watching how his eyes flutter shut and he hisses again. “Anita--”

“Ah.”

“....S-sir--” Revenant’s voice is wavering, his cock painfully throbbing. His head rolls back, and he feels so fucking debased and obscenem mouthing hanging open as he pants, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He wants to move away from the pain, but at the same time, he wants to grind into it. Filthy fucking King he is. “S-sir… wh-what do you have planned?”

“You need some real training. You’ve got a lot of shit that none of us want to deal with. What kind of King bitches as much as you do?” Anita scoffs, and removes her boot from Revenant’s crotch, ignoring how he cringes and bites back a whimper. “So I got you some gear. It’ll teach ya not to have such a loud bark, hm?” She shrugs off the rest of her shirt, leaving her bare from the waste up, skin cold and greyed with the touch of death. Revenant practically drools at the sight, his cock throbbing as a heavy spurt of pre leaks out.

He resists the urge to hold his cock in order to keep himself under control, especially when she growls, “Open that box, soldier.” He can only nod, stumbling to undo the locks and open it up. He pauses, a veil of confusion slipping over his face as he reaches in, carefully pulling out a ring of some sort, and a small pair of weights. He looks up at Anita, mouth opening, before shutting, like he’s trying to figure out what to say next.

Anita simply chuckles, as she gently pushes Revenant onto his back. The rest of his clothes are taken, stripping him bare and smirking as he flusters. The ring she takes in one hand, and grabs Revenant’s balls with a cold grasp, making him yelp and squirm to get away. He never did like the cold-- “Ahh-- Ani-- sir!” He grumbles, glancing down and helpless to watch her lock the ring around his balls. It’s near painfully tight, and only gets worse when she tugs roughly on them, making him squirm and whimper. His leg kicks out, and her other hand grips it, forcing it back down.

“Stay still,” Anita orders, as she grabs the weights next. Then she clips them to the ring, before letting them drop. The sharp tug and the pulling sensation brings tears to Revenant’s eyes, shaking almost violently and hissing, trying to scoot further onto the bed to support the metal weights. However, Anita yanks him close to her, and suddenly, her strap is pressing into his thigh, freezing cold with her presence. Revenant cries out again, arms flailing, slamming his fist into the bed.

“Anita--!! Please, it hurts!!”

“You know the safe word, soldier. And it’s--” She grasps his cock, and squeezes it tightly. “--sir. To you.” The way he shudders and sobs is ignored once more, as she stands up and drags him by his hair, until he’s kneeling on the ground, shaking and panting at the pain of the weights pulling heavy on his balls, his cock half-hard, unsure whether to take pleasure in this or not. But Revenant’s glowing eyes are filled with tears and arousal, and this slightest tinge of fear that makes Anita hesitate, one hand in his hair, the other settling around her strap.

And yet Revenant’s eyes flicker down to where the strap juts out from his pants, and he licks his lips. Then Anita knows he’s ready. “Suck.” She orders, voice a low, sultry snarl. And the King, brought to his knees by the leader of his armies, obeys.

His pretty pink lips park, and the cold head of the strap slips into his mouth, an inferno almost. She gasps, shuddering as her essence encompassing the false cock is swallowed down, and she almost stumbles, forcing Revenant onto her cock more, and more. He chokes in surprise, but swallows down inch by inch after regaining his composure, shuddering at the icy length inside his mouth. It feels so cold, so so cold, like death, and his cock jumps at the idea. Especially when her cold hand slides down to his neck, gripping the back of it as she hisses, “Get a move on, soldier.”

Revenant slides back to the tip, clumsy and untrained, swirling a hot tongue around the tip, before he sinks back onto it, down until his nose touches her cool skin. The low moan she makes fills Revenant with arousal, and God, no, not yet-- not yet--!

The painful tug of the weights with each movement, and how her icy hand strokes his neck when he swallows around her strap-- he can’t. He chokes again, body suddenly shaking and jerking, and he cums untouched, eyes rolling into the back of his head and form shuddering between wisping shadows and his human facade.

He pulls off with a wet cough, collapsing back onto the floor and shaking, the aftershocks powerful and agony with each twitch of his body. “A-anita--” He hiccups out, and she’s at his side in second, quickly unlocking the ring from him and picking him up.

“Hey, hey, I got you, I got ya.” Anita smooths a hand through his hair, and she’s laying him in the bed, making sure to sit at his side and stroke his face. “You did good, you did good.”

“I didn’t--” He’s crying, and he hates it. Revenant is so revolted, he wants to vanish and erase today. He quickly dissipates into shadows so she cannot touch him, or see his pathetic fucking face. “I couldn’t even-- you didn’t--”

“Sex ain’t about the finish line, jackass.” Anita is suddenly just as formless too, her clothes falling to the ground as she tangles her essence with his shadows. And he feels this calmness rush through him. He hiccups again, as she continues, “It’s about the shared experience. So what if I didn’t get there? We got plenty of training to do, soldier. You ain’t making me cry, are ya?”

Revenant takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself, and he turns so his ember eyes are looking into hers. He doesn’t say anything, and Anita doesn’t make him.

When he finds enough comfort to fall into an uneasy slumber, she separates from him, making sure to pack up and take her tools away. But not before she locks her shapeless hand with his, and presses a ghost of a kiss to him. And then she’s gone.

FNG.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	5. Wattson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (Flashback: Death, Blood) Pining, Electro-Play, Fingering, Body Worship, Premature Ejaculation, Sexual Frustration, Trans Wattson HC

A lot of things in life could be explained by science; at least, that’s what Natalie grew to believe.

That’s what her father told her when she was just a baby clinging to him as he worked. Said she was a marvel of science, just like her Papa. And she knew they were, when he smiled at her with a glint of fangs, and she smiled in return, barely growing into her own.

The Syndicate was the science behind her, her father, and a couple others. Selective genetic breeding, after all. It worked with animals, so they began to experiment with humans. The thirst for blood and sensitivity to light was just a small price to pay for the shifting form, the speed, the strength.

The Syndicate didn’t account for their creations to have as much freedom as they got. Natalie was only one of many unaccounted children of their weapons: vampires, one would call them. Like the silly tales of old.

And Natalie, with her brilliant mind, knew she and her father were these experimental creatures. They got more rights than others due to her father being employed by the Syndicate themself. Other vampires would have been disposed of if they had done what Luc did. But Natalie was special, as special as Luc.

And so science explained her and her Papa. And science explained the King.

The Syndicate told her Papa went missing. And torn, she had no choice but to believe them, and take his place. Overseeing the electrical marvels, and drowning her sadness in work. She kept her head down until one night, she awoke to the slaughterhouse.

She had known something was targeting the Syndicate. For the longest time, she wasn’t sure what. But as she crept down the dark halls, her eyes glowing as she looked through the corpses, she knew the time had come to meet it. The scent of blood was dizzying, so much so that she barely passed two halls before she had to stop.

Sinking to the ground, head swimming with hunger, her fangs elongating with the need for fresh dinner. She’s only permitted to feed from bags, and the still warm bodies only make her ravenous. Natalie is shaking as she crawls to one. An older scientist who once insulted her father. He’s still breathing, eyes wide in fear as blood pours from the gash in his chest.

She considers it a mercy as she leans down, and sinks her fangs into his neck, and she drinks deeply; a hunger in her like no other. And she drinks until she can no longer feel the constant burn of thirst that has plagued her since the Syndicate monitored her meals.

And when she looks up, her eyes meet with a shadowy figure. The King.

His hand is hot, burning her cool skin when he touches her, and she feels almost compelled to lean against it. She hasn’t felt warmth like this in years. She looks up at him with her wide, curious eyes, and asks him, “Who are you?” And the King laughs, brushing the blood from her lips as he rumbles to her--

The new ruler of this land. Will you join me, Natalie?

Natalie doesn’t quite like the idea of working up an excuse to the Syndicate on why everyone is suddenly dead and bloody. She can guess who they'd blame. And so she nods, and suddenly she is very warm and tired. And she falls over, where he catches her and lays her head on his lap as she dies for the first time.

Waking up, she feels so parched and hungry, and when Revenant presents her the first of the Syndicate heads, already unconscious and warm, she doesn’t hesitate to take them and take a deep drink.

So Natalie settles by the King’s side quick enough, even takes a mate when his army grows. She’s his inventor, and builds things no one else seems to have the knowledge for. Natalie knows she’s smart, and she takes pride in when the King shows off his latest tool, courtesy of one Miss Paquette. The only people who could even compare would be Ramya or the other Vampire.

Science is her domain. Which is why Revenant is such a confusing thing for her.

She knows Revenant is like her in some ways; both tools of the Syndicate, meant for nothing more than to further their means. And yet, they were so different, both in the way they were brought up, the way they were kept, and the way they acted.

Natalie got to live a normal, although lonesome life. Running through the fields, chasing down animals for a snack, studying by her Papa’s side, building electrical turrets-- typical child things. But Revenant… who knows what sorts of tormented things he had to endure in his early years?

She’s seen how drained he is some days, how anger and rage consume him at random points. How his violence leads him to lash out, attacking the other Legends without a second thought. He’s always remorsefully upset, tearing himself down for being the way he was. She’s heard how his terrors awake him at night, leaving him screaming and begging for mercy as his aides can only hold him until he awakens, more exhausted than when he went to sleep.

Natalie is… admittedly ignorant when it came to all of this. She’s had an easy run, and couldn’t possibly understand the pain that their King had to live through. She longed to know though-- craved to learn and connect and become closer to the King. She just didn’t know how. He pushed away connections, fought against open friendships and affections. Not at all receptive to most positive emotions.

Most.

She noticed very quickly something different that Revenant was open to something… peculiar. Especially when Anita approached her expertise in inventing, requesting special tools for training-- for Revenant. Things Natalie instantly recognized as for sex. And wasn’t that strange how Revenant was open to sex but not the softer sides of affection?

It wasn’t too odd, she supposed, but she couldn’t imagine only having just sex without catching feelings for her partner. She spoke in great detail to Renee about it as she built the items, and pondered perhaps, maybe, is sex what Revenant needs to aid him on a better path?

Renee coyly responded sex isn’t really therapy, but it could open him to being more vulnerable. Power dynamics and all. And suddenly, Natalie has plans. Ideas. She spends sleepless nights sketching the blueprints and building the tools. And Renee is an eager test subject.

So when Natalie is done experimenting and collecting the necessary data in order to complete her new gadgets, she gets ready to present her findings to the King-- directly of course. So she puts on her best black lipstick, and pairs it with an equally dark sundress with a lacy shawl draped over her shoulders. Simple, but elegant enough to turn heads.

And so she leaves Renee with a lipstick mark on her cheek and heads out, carrying her new tools in a nice satin bag; unassuming and innocent enough. After all, she didn’t want to attract too much attention to herself tonight. She knew Revenant had a nice night off, and the privacy is what she required to really help him learn all this new data.

Natalie finds his cavern void of life. She hums quietly to herself, focusing on her goal, and the clicking of her flats against the stone floor as she follows the winding halls and through the throne room. His private lair was known to all those in his private Court. Many a times they’ve had to bring him information or he summoned them for private discussions. As proud and fierce as the King was, he seemed so shy at times.

She knocks quickly, three times, on the wall before the curtains, hearing him grumble to himself quietly just on the other side. He must not have expected any visitors, which is perfect, if Natalie must say. “Who is it?” He hisses, his form barely visible through the curtains.

“It’s Natalie, mon roi~!” She chirps, before she drags the curtains over, beaming with a wide smile, fangs emerging and glinting in excitement already. Natalie cannot feed from most of Revenant’s forms; this she knows. But still, she’s gotten to smell his blood a few times now, and each time she sees him, she’s reminded of how sweet it was, and craved to find just a drop for the sampling. “Mon roi, I hope I’m not intruding?”

Revenant grunts, hunched over a chest of trinkets; gifts brought to him from each of the Legends. He keeps each one, growing so attached, it’s cute. She watches as he shuts the chest, pushing it back to its place against the wall. He’s in his first robotic form once again, but instead his reds are whites and he’s got a stretch of fabric thrown over his shoulders. Perhaps he was napping. Cute. “What did you want?” He grumbles, ember optics looking over her. There’s this hint of suspicion in his eyes, and she wonders perhaps-- does he already know why she was here?

Perhaps Anita wasn’t the only one showing Revenant this kind of… affection.

“I had some gifts for you, mon roi, if you’d care to see them?” Natalie cocks her head to one side, her black hair bouncing with each movement, and Revenant feels his circuits jolt slightly. She looked so cute; like a porcelain doll, that if he touched, would certainly shatter. The King of the Shadows did not deserve to touch something so lovely. But oh, how he longed to stroke her skin, and run his fingers along those razor fangs. He quickly jerks his head away, rapidly denying the circuit request to open his modesty panel. Quick to the damn draw, as Anita would say....

“Sure, whatever.” He moves to sit on the edge of his bed, folding his legs as he tries to get comfortable. When it came to Natalie, a part of Revenant was always careful, yet always on edge. She looked so soft, and easily broken; and yet Revenant knew the strength she had. What she was capable of. The very thought makes him warmer, and the room is suddenly all that much hotter. He huffs, gently shrugging the fabric off his shoulders

Natalie beams brightly, and she carefully sets the bag down on the desk, opening it. Inside are some pretty normal looking gloves-- white and plush material hiding the mechanics inside. Slowly slipping them over her own hands, and making sure to connect each piece and turn them on. And when she rubs her hands together, she watches the spark jump between them, and she knows they work.

She turns on her heel, and her arms neatly clasp together. “Anita had come to me the other day to build special tools for you. Did she show you them?”

Revenant feels a flare of embarrassment and arousal shoot through him, and he ducks his head down lower, as if to hide his blush. Natalie thought it was adorable. She giggles, one hand covering her lips, the other brushing a hand through her black hair. “Mon roi, you seem a bit troubled~? Did she not show you yet?”

“She did.” Revenant huffs, keeping his gaze down. He replays the memories so vividly in his head. His cock still almost aches, despite it no longer being flesh. He shudders just slightly, flexing his claws. “What does it matter?”

“Well, I was just so curious on how they worked, and what she could possibly be using them for~ Until I realized what she had asked me to build.” Natalie slowly steps closer, her eyes just as burning as his. The mischievous smile she has is doing things to Revenant, and he shudders, sitting up straighter.

“And? Why does it interest you?”

“I wanted to try some things out for myself, silly.” Natalie is suddenly close to him, her big, red eyes staring directly into his, and Revenant jumps, falling back slightly. She takes this as an opportunity to nudge his legs open and apart with her knee, watching how easy they fall wide for her. So he must not be as inexperienced now as she had thought…

She giggles, kneeling on the bed between his legs, and leaning over him, smirking as he gasps audibly, his embers glancing between her face, and down her chest. He shudders a bit, and he tries to find his words, stammering nonsense. He’s burning hot, which is a sharp contrast to her cool skin. She leans in further, humming, “Mon roi, there’s no need to be nervous. You can be yourself around me.” She gently kisses his cheek, leaving behind a dark lipstick mark, eyes glowing at the sight.

Revenant groans like a fucking virgin when she kisses him-- which wouldn’t be too far off-- and he feels his body override, cock sliding out and pressing against Natalie’s thigh. Her cheeks flush slightly, and she laughs, sitting back as she looks at his length like it’s nothing more than an experiment mishap. He feels… less mortified than he usually would be, flustered of course, but not upset. It feels… safer with her.

Natalie gently pokes the tip of his leaking dick, and the shock that rushes through his frame is enough to make him cry out, falling onto his back and hips thrusting up sharply. He shudders at the aftershocks, as Natalie claps. “Oh, it works!! It was such a little shock too! Did you like that?”

“F-fucking God, yes--” He whines before he can stop himself, cock throbbing for more. He feels the arousal build, the flame licking every inch of his body, and all he wants to do is touch her and mark up that skin. He whimpers, hips rolling into nothing at the thought. “Natalie-- please--”

“Ah, patience, mon roi.” Natalie pushes Revenant’s legs wider, her own cock twitching at the sight of how debased he already looked. Adorable, really. “Can you unlock your valve too, Revenant? Pretty please?”

The King shudders, and he listens without a thought, modesty panel clicking away to reveal his needy cunt, drooling slick onto the bed quickly. Natalie moves her hands to there next, two fingers dragging along the slit. Revenant gasps, eyes closing as the soft gloves prod at him. The fabric feels strange, so different from skin, but it’s not bad. Especially when one is beginning to work into him, spreading him open. The stretch burns slightly, but in this good way that has his head lolling back.

It’s not like he’s never experimented with his valve-- but it was often much quicker to just jerk off his dick and leave it at that. He’s barely managed two of his fingers once before getting impatient and finishing the job with his cock. But Natalie is patience incarnate, because even as the tip of her finger is slipped inside, she doesn’t shove it in like he wants her too. No, her thumb brushes his clit and rubs the hood in steady, soft circles, and it’s sending all sorts of good signals to his brain. And when he spasms, relaxes just slight enough, she’ll work another small bit of her finger inside.

It’s too fucking slow, and it takes forever until she’s got the finger in as deep as she can, the plush material of the glove soaked quickly in his slick. He’s panting, would be drooling if he had saliva, and his hips are trying to jerk up. But she’s smart, and has her other hand holding his hips down with her powerful, inhuman strength.

Curse her.

“Natalie-- please, fucking do something--!” Revenant snarls, his claws digging into the fabric of his bed. But she just winks, and he wants to curse at her, but then a small charge emits from the glove currently fingering him-- and he howls. His whole body convulses with the shock, and his systems internally warn him of the input, but that doesn’t fucking matter when he’s floating on Cloud9. His cock jerks, a heavy spurt of pre dripping out, and his valve flutters around her fingers, and he’s whimpering like a seasoned slut already.

“Was that something enough~?” She coos, like the little demon she is, and she brushes a kiss to his inner thigh, leaving behind a perfect lip mark of black. Revenant can only hiccup and whine out, his legs spreading wider, and isn’t that something that makes Natalie’s cock throb in her panties? She kisses his thigh again, and he sobs at the touch. He feels so fucking worked up, and so strange. His ember optics burn, and perhaps if he could in this form, he’d be crying.

“Pl-please--”

“Shhh, don’t you worry, you pretty little thing~ I got you.” Natalie nuzzles his face into his thigh, and kisses the metal again, each one leaving it’s own mark. And she twists her finger, curling it upward, and the electrical pulse rockets through Revenant again, stronger. And Revenant cums with a cry, his whole body jerking and he grinds down against her finger like it’s her cock, and he can’t think, his system malfunctioning as he only feels pleasure, and only thinks-- Moremoremoremoremoremore--!!

And Natalie continues to kiss his metal, and she’s kissing his cock now, the cum staining her dark lipstick as she stains the metal with the makeup. And she’s now working a second finger inside him, between the spasms of his body, just as slow, just as patient. Revenant hiccups and sobs, the overstimulation almost too much, definitely too much, but God, she’s whispering praise against his heated metal in her mother tongue.

He wants to be good for her.

Natalie moves in now, her lips sealing around his clit to suckle, one hand taking his cock and stroking it quickly, and now two of her fingers are massaging inside him, and Revenant feels a second orgasm building rapidly, and he can only choke on his noises, his whole body useless and shaking. Suddenly, her fingers find a really good spot inside him, and she shocks him again, and he’s gone. He’s screeching, form shaking and wisping suddenly, flames licking the edges, and his lubricant squirts onto her face and hands the bed, soaking it all. And his cock jerks in her grasp and as he cums harder than ever before, painting his chest, and his system hard reboots at the end of it all.

He comes too sluggishly, warnings in his vision, error codes that he ignores. Natalie is leaning over him now, the gloves gone, and she’s kissing his face, her lips covered in his cum and her pretty lipstick. And Revenant leans into the kisses and he’s so sleepy now…

Natalie makes sure to clean up most of the mess when Revenant dozes off. Her cock throbs insistently, but she doesn’t need him to return anything. No, she’s gotten plenty of perfect data, and her own satisfaction will come later, when she’s in private and can replay all those noises he’s made.

She leaves her lipstick on him though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	6. Lifeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Arachnophobia, (Flashback: Death) Pining, Medical Kink, Glove Kink, D/S dynamics, Sex toys, Mutual Masturbation, Sexual Frustration, Trans Lifeline HC

Ajay had always been a bright girl. From the moment she had hatched among her siblings, she was curious and talkative, and found interest in things the other arachnoids did not. She studied the others, the little girl lost in sketches and notes. While most of her siblings barely cared to know their common name, Ajay was putting her venom into tubes and experimenting on them; even going so far to finding an anti-venom for her kind. Peucetia viridans, she told her newly hatched siblings, and she showed them how the anti-venom helped heal the prey she had bitten.

Of course, her parents gave her an earful. They were well-respected arachnoids, and simply could not have their daughter find cures for the venoms of her kind. Ajay argued against them, time and time again, how they didn’t need to hurt people, they didn’t need to lure humans into their territory and make them suffer.

Yet her mother and father simply patted her head, said they knew better, and told her to focus on her training. After all, what sort of spider could not build a web and hunt for their family?

And what could Ajay do but put her head down and do as they said?

She wasn’t the only arachnoid who looked beyond the netting and webs surrounding their valley. Ajay was pestered quite often by a Misumena vatia, who had the most obnoxious personality she’s ever met. Octavio was loud and constantly bothering her, bouncing and always on the move. At least he seemed interested when she was experimenting with venom, even allowing her to get a sample of his for study.

And Ajay kept her samples hidden from her parents, bribing other friends for samples of their venoms in order to synthesize anti-venoms. She didn’t know what she’d do with her data-- a wishful part of her wanted to bring them to the humans, and help them understand her kind. And let them know not all of them were monsters.

And then one day, Octavio blew off his legs when trying to impress some others in the valley. Ajay did what she could to help him: prosthetics were near impossible to come by in the valley, so pleaded one of the more human-passing arachnoids to retrieve some for her. And when they did, Octavio didn’t even stop to say thanks. He was right back to being his reckless, awful self.

Ajay’s parents demanded she abandon him; a troublesome arachnoid is no better than prey, and they wouldn’t have their daughter be around a broken one. They told her if she didn’t, they would make sure Octavio became the next meal on her table.

She left the valley, and she walked and walked until she couldn’t anymore. She laid by the waterside somewhere in the Canyon and she was tired. Ajay tried to help, and yet she couldn’t. She had failed, she was nothing but a mistake.

Ajay didn’t know how long she laid there. It felt like forever, her eyes staring into the reflection of the pools of water, and suddenly, there was another set staring right back. She had sat up abruptly, staring in shock as the King rose from the water. He’s nothing more than dark, wisping shadows that extend a clawed hand, and he whispers to her:

Come with me Ajay. Your mind will be far more respected in my Court.

Ajay had only hesitated a moment, replying in a shaking voice, “You have to take him too. Please. They’ll kill him.” The Shadow had laughed, but it wasn’t cold or cruel. Amused, and he shakes his head.

It will be done, if you come with me.

And Ajay takes his hand, and like venom leaking into the prey, she feels her life sap away, and she collapses into the water. She awakens later to the King sitting by her side, and Octavio is curled up beside her, asleep and silent for once. And Ajay smiles, and she whispers to her new King, “Thank you.”

The King is not perfect.

There is plenty wrong with him emotionally and psychologically of course, but physically as well. And while Ramya seemed to take the tasks of modding and altering most of his forms, Ajay is employed to properly care for each one in the more medical sense.

The doctor was used to Revenant’s temper and outbursts. He had plenty of issues that she’s noted, and she makes sure each other is on the list of things to address. Ajay works through them all without a second thought. Of course, it’s the least she can do.

She wasn’t a qualified doctor, but she had studied years and years now. So Ajay finds the role a perfect fit for her. She treats the others in the Court as well; mending wounds, patching injuries, slapping a bandaid on them as she scolds them and tells them to be a little more careful. Everyone here is kinda like a little family, even when they’re her patients.

Which is why dealing with Revenant is always so annoying. He’s sort of a big whiny brat; a child at times who throws the most awful tantrums, destructive and just overbearing. Ajay works hard to work with him through everything, but damn, but nothing seems to be the breakthrough he needs. She scribbles more to her notes, tries to see what seems to be the missing piece, sleepless sometimes as she tries to help the King.

He rejects any sort of positive emotions, destroys any attempts to be kind, and any negativity only reduces him further to his broken state. Ajay’s never seen such a hopeless case; she really wants to help him, she does, but she’s just not found the right outlet yet. She feels lost.

Until, well, Octavio opens his mouth. Natalie’s a bit foolish for thinking she could trust Tavi with anything, as he’ll blab the next second he gets. Which is exactly what he does when he next sees Ajay, unable to stop chattering as she wraps up his arm from his latest stunt. Just on and on about random stuff until he mentions, “And Natalie said she had a fun night with Revenant, and the way she grinned, amiga? She TOTALLY got laid! With Revenant! I always knew there was some kinky robot underneath that--”

Ajay had paused, the gears in her mind shifting, and she had to shoe Octavio that very second, instantly rushing to write out a new treatment plan for Revenant. This was the very breakthrough she needed.

Sex could be very therapeutic, how come she never thought of this? Revenant had some sort of sexual relationship with his concubine. And apparently, Natalie had pierced the way through his cold front as well. So Ajay knew, as his doctor, she had a way to work through his issues now. Sex could be very therapeutic, very very. And she knew Revenant was in serious need of therapy.

Ajay had plans to contact Revenant for an appointment, scheduling something for him: she still wasn’t sure what she would put as the reason. Until suddenly, Revenant contacts her, simply citing he required an urgent appointment, at her next available time. Of course, he worded it harshly, demanding she come the second she can, with a frustrated voice, but Ajay turns it around quickly, snapping, “Quit ya whingin’, it won’t do ya any good if I don’t got my tools! Now get ya behind here, and get going.”

Revenant huffed, and he shuts the connection down, and Ajay gets to work on setting up her office for an examination, making sure to sterilize any tools and cover them carefully with a clean cloth, so Revenant wouldn’t be intimidated. She didn’t know exactly what he needed, so she had a little bit of everything within reach, including some medical tools for… sexual health. Those she kept close to the examination table, hidden in a drawer. She also puts her hair into buns and makes sure she drains her venom ahead of time; after all, an Arachnoid’s instinct is to bite, and she didn’t want to poison Revenant-- even if he would be fine.

The metal doors to her office bang open, and Ajay jumps as she’s putting away the vials, nearly dropping the potent liquids and quickly catching them. She slips them into the holder, shoving it into a fridge and turning, hand on her hip. She’s right about ready to scold him, but he looks-- genuinely uncomfortable, embarrassed, ashamed, even in his shadowy form.

And Ajay’s nature to help, to heal, takes over. Her expression softens, and she quickly pats the bed, humming, “Oh ya poor thing, it must be serious. Come on, sit yaself down.” Revenant doesn’t reply, his appearance solidifying to his monstrous, bone-like form. Terrifying, really, and probably a ploy to protect himself: appear scary to hide how afraid he was.

Revenant settles back, tense as ever, his claws balled into tight fists, his eyes flickering around nervously, his legs pressed together and his whole form looking meek and afraid. Ajay quickly slips on her gloves, the loud snap of the elastic making him jump minutely. “Tell me hun, what’s the matter with ya today? Let me help.”

The King takes a shaking breath, and he mumbles, “It’s shameful. I shouldn’t even be asking for help with something like this-”

“Nothin’ is shameful when it comes to medicine, hun.” Ajay places a hand on his knee, and Revenant stiffens, feeling heat flood through him like molten lava. Ajay certainly wasn’t helping with his “problem.” The King takes some deep breaths, like she once taught him, and he slowly relaxes, the tension leaving his frame. After another moment, he looks at her.

Gods, she’s beautiful.

“....I have been having some problems. Sexual problems,” Revenant grumbles, and Ajay feels her cheeks burn slightly, her lips forming into a little O shape. The doctor clears her throat, and she straightens up slightly, nodding slowly.

“What kind of problems? Can ya explain?”

“It’s just-- problems!!” Revenant throws his hands up, and there is that explosive temper again. He snarls, slamming his hands against his face, and hisses, “I have been so-- fucking broken sexually! I can’t do things without-- being done in seconds! It’s fucking awful!! And I can’t even figure out how to fucking satisfy myself without stupid goddamn pain--!” He slams his fist down on the metal table, and his form briefly shifts to curling, agitated shadows, his glowing ember eyes full of anger and shame.

Ajay is unphased. In fact, she simply tsks, and turns to open a drawer, locating a white bag. She sets it onto the table, unzipping it now as she speaks. “You’re gonna hurt yaself if you don’t prep properly. You’ve been jammin’ ya fingers in without usin’ any sort of prep or lube, eh?”

Revenant huffs, and he grumbles, “That sort of shit takes too long--”

“Then ya got ya answer-- you’ve never done this before, so ya keep hurtin’ yaself.” Ajay pulls out a set of silicone dilators, ranging in 4 sizes for now. She also retrieves several packets of lube, setting those down besides the dilators. Revenant watches her curiously, eyes flickering between the strange tools and her. His valve is already throbbing at the idea of being filled by something less painful than his claws. His form solidifies again, and Ajay turns to face him, hands landing on his knees.

“Spread your legs for me, we’re going to begin with some dilation therapy to help ease any pain with ya.” The clinical way she spoke to him makes his cunt ache, and he bites back a whine, quickly spreading his legs open for her. His modesty panel clicks open, exposing an already drooling hole, slick and ready just for her. Ajay sucks in a sharp breath, but she keeps her expression steady moving to first examine the plush, silicone lips.

She spreads his cunt open with two of her gloved fingers, watching how the hole is already fluttering around nothing, how engorged the clitoris is. She presses a thumb against the glowing node, noticing how he jumps and gasps, squirming beneath her. “Hold ya self, Revenant, or we might have to use some… restraints.”

Revenant immediately stills, a whine bubbling in his chest. He’s seen her use her webs to ensnare prey, how powerful and suffocating it could be to be trapped by her. And part of him wants it. But the less horny side of his brain tells him to shut the fuck up, this is nothing more than a medical examination. Still, the idea of her touching him-- God, he’s never felt so fucking aroused. He just wishes he could finger himself like Natalie did.

Meanwhile, Ajay has removed her hands from his dripping valve. As lubricated as he already is with his own arousal, she still rips open the packet of lube, slicking up the smallest dilator: thin as her pinky finger, and only 3 inches long. A good start for someone who’s never really had penetration. Once she’s coated the dilator in the thick lubricant, she turns back to Revenant, her fingers spreading open his valve as she positions the tool.

“I’m gonna insert the dilator now. It might hurt ya a little; just relax, and we’ll take it as slow as ya need.” Before she can give him a chance to respond, she’s pressing the silicone at his cunt, and Revenant gasps audibly as it slides in easily. His body clenches around it, and he can’t help but arch into the feeling; it reminds him of Natalie, prodding him open with her fingers, and it feels good after being unbearably horny for a couple days, but it’s very quickly not enough.

Revenant growls softly, but Ajay shows no signs of speeding up. She’s slow and steady, carefully pushing the dilator in as deep as it can go, asking, “Do you feel any discomfort?”

“N-no--”

“Good. Keep on relaxin’, I’m going to perform some movements to help with the dilation.” Ajay then begins to slip the thin tool out, and Revenant wants to whine in disappointment, but she’s pushing it back in again just as soon, slow but constant, in and out. Revenant’s head lolls to the side, maw falling open and panting quietly. It feels good, but not enough, especially when she begins to rotate the tool in wide circles. It’s not enough, and he can’t stop the small snarl that leaves him.

“Ajay, it feels like nothing--” He begins to complain.

“Good, then we can move ya to the next size.” And the toy is slipped out of his cunt. He shudders, and Gods, he shouldn’t be so fucking turned on by how distant she sounds. He can’t look when she moves to grab the next one, ashamed of how his expression might be, how his eyes glow intensely with arousal.

Ajay is also struggling. Her cock is pressing against the front of her baggy pants, and she would adjust herself if her gloves didn’t have a thick layer of lube all over them. So she moves to lubricate the next dilator: thicker by nearly an inch, 4 inches in length. She makes sure it’s just as coated as the first, and turns back to Revenant, nudging his legs open more before she spreads his lips again. “I’m gonna insert the next size now, ya tell me if it hurts ya.”

Revenant manages to nod quickly, and then he feels the thicker head beginning to breach him. It stings just slightly, but it washes away in a wave of arousal, and he focuses on trying to relax his clenching valve, moving one hand to his maw to gently bite down on. If Ajay notices, she doesn’t comment, instead focusing on getting the dilator pressed inside him. Slow, easy, and careful.

The King can’t help but moan softly when the thicker dilator gently nudges inside all the way, his cunt clenching around it as he feels hot shame flood him again. Ajay hums softly, pressing the dilator in a bit deeper, her voice soft as she speaks, “No need to be ashamed now; I’m ya doctor, I’m here to help ya now.”

Revenant feels his valve twitch at that, and fresh lubricant spills from his valve, aiding Ajay’s fingers as she pulls the tool back out, then gently presses it inside. Repeating the motions as before, in then out and rotating. A dizzying motion that’s sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. The pain is completely gone, and in a few moments, the discomfort of the stretch has vanished too. His hips are gently fucking upwards, into each push of the dilator, and he whines again, feeling the familiar edge of release approaching. “A-Ajay--”

“Looks like ya ready for the next one.” And the dilator is removed from his valve, making Revenant snarl in disappointment. He had been so fucking close-- But Ajay keeps her clinical approach, now coating the next size. It looked considerably thicker, even if it was only by another inch, and it was 5.25 inches in length, looking more familiar to something Revenant really wished he could be riding to oblivion now.

Ajay has her eyes glued to the dilator, and her cock is definitely throbbing now, leaking pre against her underwear and achingly hard. She’s glad Revenant seems focused on his own pleasure, so he won’t see how-- unprofessional this is all making her. She’s almost excited to move to the next size, and the one after this, but she remains patient. For his sake. She turns back to him again, and pushes Revenant’s legs wider apart. He feels like a goddamn slut with his legs spread like this, but Ajay’s face is steady and blank still. It makes him shiver and he’s suddenly eager to spread his legs wide as she needs.

Her gloved hands are cool compared to his burning frame, and she brushes his clit when she spreads his cunt again, making him gasp sharply. She pretends not to notice, the thick head of the dilator nudging at his cunt, as she mumbles, “This one may hurt ya more than the last. Just be patient, hold still. I’ll make sure it feels better soon, hun.” And she’s pressing it inside.

His cunt flutters to accommodate it, and the burning pain is teetering just between too much and not enough. He shudders and squirms, but suddenly two of her thin, spindly appendages that really make her the arachnoid she is are sprouting from her body, and they press his hips down as she hums, “Relax, and hold still now.” Revenant is whining louder, the hot shame only spurring him on, and he knows he can fight her off, he’s stronger. But he listens to his doctor.

The dilator is so thick, but she thumbs his clit and he jerks again, cunt pulsing with arousal, and fuck he feels close to that edge again. The dilator slips deeper with each spasm of his body, and soon enough, it’s as deep as she can fit it. Fuck, he feels so fucking full and perfect, his maw hanging open, tongue lolling out, eyes blank and staring at the ceiling. She’s pulling it out, and he clenches to keep it inside, whimpering.

“Relax love, Ajay’s got ya.” Her voice is a soft coo, and he does as she says, the tool slipping out to the tip, before she’s pushing it back inside. The same practiced and clinical motions, the rotations and pushes. Revenant is panting loud and lewd now, his legs trying to spread wider, trying to entice her to really fuck him with that tool. He’s nearly there--

But too soon, she’s pulling the dilator out, and he cries in frustration, hissing, “Please, just fuck me already--!!”

“Hush yaself now. We’re almost done with ya treatment.” It’s almost irritating how steady she keeps her voice, Revenant wants to cry. He shudders and huffs, but doesn’t argue further, his glowing eyes flickering to look at her. And he really takes her in now.

She’s flushed dark, biting her lip as she works on lubricating the last dilator, her cock making a sizable tent in her pants. And Revenant thinks of how nice it would be to have her fuck him with that, pressing deep inside as she examines his teeth with her gloved hands, and fucks his mouth with her fingers, all while keeping that steady voice. He whines at the thought, stretched cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ajay--”

“We’re almost done for today, Revenant.” Ajay turns back, and her fingers spread him open. She holds the next dilator steady, and it’s almost scary: nearly four inches in circumference, and 5 and half in length. Not much longer than the last, but looking much much thicker. Revenant’s never wanted something inside him so bad.

Ajay presses the head at his hole, and she’s mumbling, “If this hurts, let me know--” Before she’s now pressing it inside. Steady, constant pressure. It does hurt, stretching him wider than he’s ever been, but god, Revenant fucking wants it. He moves his hands to grip his legs, spreading himself wide open for her, gasping and shaking as each inch is forcing itself inside. His cunt can’t stop throbbing, spasming and clenching around each bit of the dilator.

“I can’t--” Revenant whimpers, and Ajay shushes him, thumb moving back to his clit to rub slow, steady circles. The King gasps, his whole body jerking, and Ajay keeps pushing the dilator inside him, her voice low and husky.

“Yes ya can, love. Just a bit more.”

And Revenant is a good boy, and he forces himself to relax, even when it’s hard, especially when she’s touching his neglected clit and making his body shake with the explosion of pleasure. It feels like forever, but then the dilator stops moving, and he shudders, hiccupping and wheezing nearly with the intense feelings rocketing through his frame.

Ajay is panting softly herself, pulling the silicone length out to the tip, and pushing it back inside. The same motions, but they’re more hurried, more eager. And the burn is making Revenant practically drool, his glowing eyes focused on where the toy is thrusting inside him. Slow, too slow. Especially when she begins the rotating motions. The head nudges a spot inside him that makes him thrash and cry out.

Neither of them can wait any longer, it seems.

She starts fucking the toy inside him, firmer and quick, her thumb rubbing quicker circles, moving from the hood to the very tip and back, circling as each thrust of the toy slams deeper and harder. Revenant is yelping and snarling, his head falling forward and leaning against her, claws digging into his legs, trying to force them wider apart.

“Harder-- please, fuck-- fucking-- fill me, please Ajay--!!” Revenant’s voice is crackling and wavering, and Ajay wants to drag it out, just to hear it longer. But she’s not patient enough. She moves her hand from his clit, still thrusting the toy so his disappointed whines are drowned out with hiccupping moans, and she takes one of his hands, moving it back down to where the toy stretches out his cunt.

“Touch yaself for ya doctor,” She whispers, and Revenant obeys. He copies the movements she did with two of his fingers, quicker and chasing the tantalizing release on the horizon, tongue hanging out, maw wide open as he sobs so obscenely. Ajay moves her gloved hand quickly inside her own pants, tugging her cock out and stroking with each thrust and twist of the hand fucking the dilator into Revenant.

She imagines it’s her cock fucking him open, stretching his valve out and making him sob so loudly, making him cry and beg for more. She feels venom spilling from her fangs, and she’s so fucking eager to bite him-- she jerks forward, and her teeth sink into soft wires around his neck, and it’s enough for them both.

Revenant cums first, the hot venom flooding his circuitry in ways it shouldn’t, choking on his cries as he cums hard, squirting lubricant all over their hands, the table, a leaking puddle that makes his whole body seize up.

And Ajay is quick to follow, the euphoric release of venom into a willing prey making her hands speed up, and she shudders, cock pulsing in her grip and spilling thick ropes onto the table, aimed at that pretty cunt speared open by the dilator she keeps fucking into him, through the aftershocks. Slowly, she stills the movements, panting against him when she pulls her fangs from his neck, and he’s sniffling and shaking, breathing ragged, body feeling drained.

They’re still for a long time.

Then Ajay is the first to move, her hands letting go from the dilator, her cock, and her glowing eyes watch his cock throb and push the silicone tool from himself, cunt gaping open and fluttering. She helps him lay back, his eyes closed, as he tries to regain his breath. She moves slowly, sluggish as she cleans up the mess. Disposing of the gloves, setting the dilators into a tub to clean them after she wipes up the mess of cum between Revenant’s legs. Even gently wiping his cunt with a warm washcloth, biting her lip again as he whines softly, modesty panel clicking close afterwards.

She washes the dilators, dries and packages them up, and she writes out some instructions for at-home dilation therapy before she sends him off with the kit on shaking legs, once he regains his composure.

And when he’s gone, she makes sure to add sexual therapy to the list of what works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	7. Forge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (Flashback: Abuse, Death) Pining, Premature Ejaculation, Masturbation, D/S dynamics, Sex toys, Humiliation, Pet Play, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Scent Kink, Oral, Knotting, Trans Forge HC

A King has many things in his Court. The Advisors, the Assistants, the Soldiers and the Medics, and of course, his Knight. But one thing that no Court seems to lack is of course the King’s concubine.

Much more than just a simple tool for pleasure, Jimmy is more than pleased to be at the side of his King. He likes to think he’s way more important to Revenant than anyone else-- and he’s probably right. He’s there to provide entertainment that quells the temper of the King, as well as care for him more intimately than others could ever hope to achieve. Of course, this looks more like Jimmy giving Revenant some well-needed snuggles and the occasional grinding. Though Revenant is always quick to shove him away and mumble something about not being interested anymore.

Jimmy really knows it’s because Revenant has orgasmed seconds into the grinding, but he wouldn’t push it.

His job was to make Revenant feel good, and by Gods, he was gonna do it. Being dressed in fine robes and jewels was just… a bonus. Drinking and feasting well was also a nice bonus. Okay, so Jimmy got a lot out of it, but hey, he really did enjoy his job. After all, he was perfect for being a warm cuddlebug.

Cuddlebug.

It’s what his father nicknamed him. When he was a child caught between homes, with bright eyes and long hair, his Mother and dad couldn’t find an even ground on what was best for him. His Mother wanted a perfect daughter, and his father just wanted what was best for him. He doesn’t remember much of his Mother anymore-- not since she tried to kidnap him in order to force a doctor to operate on a 9-year-old child.

Jimmy tries to forget most of that. He supposes his story really starts when he’s famous; after working years and years to be some sort of celebrity in the hyperfighting career as Jimmy “The Forge” McCormick. He worked long hours, endless weeks, until one day he couldn’t.

His arm broke. Shattered really, in the first loss of his life. Broken beyond repair in a horrible accident that shouldn’t have happened. He woke up without an arm, and he felt like his world was gone. The very reason he lived, the thing he worked desperately to improve in. Ripped away and tossed to the trash like his arm. He’s sure he would have descended into alcoholism and drugs like most fallen stars-- if the Syndicate hadn’t jumped on him.

Wolves descending on a vulnerable, broken prey.

They promised him a new arm, if he just participated in their… studies. We need powerful test subjects, one who can withstand anything. I’m sure you more than qualify, Mr. McCormick, the representative had told him, their smile lecherous and cold as they handed him the paperwork.

And Jimmy was desperate for something at that moment, hopeless and lost and looking for something to make it all better. So he signed-- with the wrong hand he had left, and the Syndicate took him as their newest pawn.

They poked and prodded him for what felt like eternity; needles and injections, examining the scars on his body, and questioning the prior surgeries Jimmy’s had. The ones he’s done in secret to feel better. And Jimmy feels pressured to answer, worn and drained by the constant tests, the constant monitoring, and the loss of his previous purpose.

The Syndicate kept to their promise. A mechanical arm is constructed for him, but he doesn’t get very long to enjoy it. Because another series of tests finally brings out something. He remembers the strange black fluids running through his veins, staining them dark through the skin, and he remembers this surge of energy-- and pain. Agonizing pain that makes him scream, thrashing in his bed, and when staff try to restrain him, he shoves them off, and others he claws through.

Claws.

He falls to the ground, watching as his nails elongate to claws, fur sprouting through the skin so quickly, it’s like something out of a movie. And his snout elongates and his teeth grow to fearsome fangs, and it takes several darts to sedate him. He awoke blearily days later, immobilized and bound, as the Syndicate leeches explain that they had a breakthrough. That they had spliced his DNA with predator DNA, mixing prowlers and the wolves of Talos with his genes. And they had created the perfect tool.

He was just their tool now.

The Syndicate broke him down further. Threatening to take his arm away-- even when they did to upgrade it. They forced him to learn to transform at will, and tortured him when he didn’t. And Jimmy just learned and kept his head down, tired and hopeless. When he shifts his form, the mechanical arm copies it, and he’s left a hulking beast, maw snarling as the electric collar cuts into his skin, and his wrists bound with heavy chains, all his senses heightened-- including pain. He’s trapped again, only an accessory; like he was for his mother

Whatever they planned to use him for, they didn’t get a chance to finalize it.

Jimmy knew something was wrong when he awoke, his nose twitching with the scent of blood invading his mind. He shuffles to stand from his cell, his electrical collar heavy against his bruised skin, and he moves to the door, trying to look through it.

It opens at the slightest push, and he hesitates, instincts telling him to run back to his bed with his tail tucked between his legs like the Syndicate bitch he is. But there’s still the glimmer of rebellion-- the same that pushed him free from his mother. And he pushes the door open and wanders through the dark, empty halls.

The scent leads him to the carnage. Scientists and guards ripped like paper, bleeding and still warm. Some are alive, wheezing breaths as he passes them, ignoring their angered, pained looks. A part of Jimmy wonders if-- if maybe he did this. But he doubts it. He is powerful, but nothing like this.

Jimmy finds his answer soon enough.

The Shadow King is inside the deepest sanctum, his claws shredding the higher ups of the Syndicate, pulling their organs free and watching the way the color drains their face. Jimmy is startled by the gruesome sight, stumbling back and gasping, shaking.

The King turns his head to face the Syndicate tool, his shadowy form so dark, so horrifying, that Jimmy can’t look away. And he approaches, twitchy and thrumming with pure bloodlust. His bloody claw reaches out, and Jimmy yelps, eyes shutting tight, snarling and whimpering as the fur sprouts on his skin, and his form grows. But he is nothing more than a kicked puppy, whimpering and trembling as he waits for the King to kill him.

He never does.

Those claws are warm, and cup his jaw, lifting his face up. And the King shushes his soft whimpers with a gentle hum, stroking his chin as he comforts the shaking, fearful creature. Jimmy relaxes slowly, tears streaming down his face, his eyes glistening with fear. But the King is gentle, and patient, as he whispers:

You poor thing. I will take you somewhere safe, my little one.

And Jimmy, so drained and tired, nods eagerly, burying his snout into the King’s dark shadows. And as he feels the life drain from his body, he panics for a second. Until the King’s shadows envelop him like a warm blanket, and the Syndicate project dies peacefully in the King’s arms.

He awakens again, exhausted and so very sleepy, and the King sits at his side, stroking his hair with a softness Jimmy hasn’t felt in decades: and he decides he can sleep for a little bit longer.

The King will keep him safe.

Jimmy learns very quickly that he’s not like the others of the Court. He’s not brave like the Soldier, nor is he smart like the Inventor or Medic or Advisor. He’s strong like the Knight and the Assistant, but he’s meek and timid in his first couple of years. So the King keeps Jimmy at his side, uncharacteristically gentle with him, and making sure no one in the Court is cruel or harsh with Jimmy.

So what if Jimmy gets a little… spoiled?

He deserves it! After the hell he had to live, he gets to be a little sassy with the King, or snarky with the others in the Court-- all in good fun of course. He’s comfortable at Revenant’s side, and when Anita jokes that he’s no more than a glorified pet at this point… well, Jimmy likes that.

So he falls into that role just fine, a cuddly and affectionate man who’s sometimes a massive beast with sharp claws and sharper teeth. He learns to be comfortable with his other form, which results in him napping directly in the King’s bed and ending up as a pillow to a grumpy but stubborn shadow.

At some point, it upgrades to something more. He directly curling around Revenant in either form, holding the warm King to his chest because he feels like a nice space heater. And then it moves to him cuddling the King outside of sleeping, wrapping his massive arms around his smaller form, nuzzling him as he works. Sometimes licking his cheek.

Revenant is so grumpy, but he seems to enjoy it. Leaning into the touches subtly, eyes fluttering shut when Jimmy laps at his face. Then becoming warmer when Jimmy gets bolder. Kissing and licking his neck, pressing against him and grinding slowly against his back.

Of course, when he goes rigid and silent, then shoves Jimmy off, he knows it’s cuz Revenant seems to… shoot off in seconds. So to speak.

Jimmy knows Revenant’s been doing something with the others though. He’s a bit jealous, but not How-Dare-You-Touch-Them and instead Why-Not-Me sort of jealous. He smells it each time. Detects Ramya’s scent on his King, then Makoa, then Anita, then Natalie. And now Ajay, when Revenant comes home late with a burning heat and kicking Jimmy out for the night, clutching a white bag behind his back. And Jimmy wants to know just what Revenant’s getting up to now. After all, it’s what he does best as his concubine. Please him. Make him feel good.

So he waits for the next opportunity. Letting himself into Revenant’s room late, nose picking up the faintest scents of arousal. The King is freshly bathed, his form the older simulacrum he seems most comfortable with. He’s drying off, red cowl and loincloth gone for washing, and he seems startled when Jimmy whistles at him, growling and turning to face the other.

“McCormick. I’m clearly busy,” The King grumbles, but even under the pissy tone, there’s the slightest hint of fondness. It’s what Jimmy’s learned to cling to in the beginning, when he couldn’t tell apart his genuine anger from his normal tone. Jimmy grins, and he continues into the room, backing Revenant up to his bed. He gasps sharply as he stumbles and falls onto the bed, and Jimmy takes this opportunity to crawl into his lap, framing his powerful arms around his shoulder and humming.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been having some fun without me, hmm~?”

Jimmy’s voice is low and sultry, and Revenant feels the all-too-familiar zing of arousal jolt through his frame. He shudders slightly, already feeling quite worked up from using his new… tools in the bath today. He can still recall how fucking full he felt when he managed to get the fifth and final size inside himself earlier: something Ajay didn’t even try when she was… treating him.

Unconsciously, his legs squeeze together, and he huffs. “What on Earth are you talking about, McCormick?” But Jimmy just grins and he leans in, nuzzling right into his favorite spot-- where Revenant’s neck meets his shoulder-- and he starts to lick and kiss at the warmed metal, noting how hot it already was. Revenant shudders, head lolling back at the familiar action. His claws shift to grip the larger man’s hips, and the usual dread of a quick and disappointing session is lessened.

In fact, for once since they begin their ‘playtime,’ Revenant is excited, his body thrumming for more. He groans openly, ember eyes fluttering shut, and Jimmy takes that as an invitation to continue, strong arms roaming up and down the King’s sides, before they find their place at his hips. His thumbs slip into the joints, and begin to pet the wires. He smirks when Revenant jumps, the King’s legs falling open wider, and he moans more openly. Jimmy just seems to know all of his little sweet spots…

“Fucking around like a little slut, have ya?” Jimmy growls in his ear, and Revenant gasps again, his eyes opening as he shifts to try and look at Jimmy. But the larger man doesn’t let him move much, pinning him down and grinning like the cocky asshole he is. “I didn’t even need to have anyone tell me. I can smell it on you, each time~” He grins, and Revenant huffs. The usual hot shame floods him, but with Jimmy, he can be a little more honest. So he growls, his eyes locking with the other.

“So you’ve been smelling me like a dog, is that it?” He snarls, and Jimmy instinctively whimpers, shrinking back a bit, and he feels his cock thicken up at the tone. Like a dog scolded, and it’s fucking humilating how easily he reacts to that. Revenant sits up, and Jimmy lets him, stumbling to stand as the King hisses, “You’ve been sniffing around for a taste of what you couldn’t get, have you?”

“I--”

“You’ve been a horny dog, looking for a leg to hump. God, I always knew you were a damn pervert.” Revenant glares at Jimmy, curiously watching as he whimpers and looks away-- but his cock is quickly hardening in his pants. Interesting. Revenant didn’t think Forge, someone so eager to be comforted and praised, would get off to being humiliated like this. Huh. Sex is weird.

Revenant hums, settling back onto his elbows, subconsciously spreading his legs as he watches how Jimmy stares with a soft, low whine. He gives his body a command for his modesty panel to open. The soft, plush swell of his valve is exposed, still slightly gaping open from being stretched just earlier. The poor beast is whimpering again, dropping to his knees and crawling over just like a dog. His massive hands-- his paws are hovering over Revenant’s knees, as he pleads, “C-can I touch you here--? Please, you smell so good-- please--”

The King feels strangely out of place, in this position of power during this sexual encounter. But he revels in it, his clit throbbing at the sight of the massive beast reduced to a shaking, pleading mess, even as the fur begins to sprout along his skin and his form grows to his massive predator size. His little pet. Cute. He hums, legs falling open wider, one hand moving down to spread the lips of his pussy for the beast to see.

“Eat me out,” He orders, and Jimmy obeys. He dives in, burying his snout into the other’s cunt, and his massive tongue begins to lap in broad, messy strokes. Revenant shudders and jolts, the feeling so foreign and yet so fucking good. One clawed hand grips the fur at Jimmy’s head, pushing him closer, as he snarls, “Fuckin-- pervert-- How l-long have you waited to pleasure your K-King--? Fuck, Gods-- You’re such a damn dog--” His voice is hiccupy and static, as the pleasure overwhelms his sensors quickly. And Jimmy doesn’t let up, pressing his thick tongue into that molten heat, fucking the appendage inside of Revenant’s cunt.

The feeling of being eaten out is so new, and so goddamn new, that Revenant can already feel his orgasm building. He tries to jerk away, gasping and mumbling, “Slow the fuck-- down--!” But Jimmy doesn’t, his massive teeth gently scraping the metal and silicone as he moves to suckle on his clit, broad tongue swirling around it. Revenant cries out, and he cums so suddenly that his systems nearly offline. He moans and shakes violently, hips bucking up against the beast’s snout as he rides out the powerful orgasm.

And Jimmy is in fucking heaven, the strong scent of Revenant’s arousal overwhelming him. He moans and pants against his plush cunt, lapping at the slit to taste as much of his cum as possible. Drunk on the scent, barely managing to hear Revenant’s shaking pleas, “Fuck-ing slow down-- it’s t-too much-- Jimmy--!”

The beast pulls back, his tongue hanging out as he pants openly, his own hips minutely fucking into the air. He’s whimpering, snout nudging into Revenant’s thigh, claws digging into his metal and lapping at his leg, desperate for more. Revenant grunts, ember eyes burning as he glares down at the sloppy little pet. He grips his fur tighter, and relishes in how he whines and follows when he’s pulled.

“You’re such a dirty dog, aren’t you?” Revenant snarls, eyes flickering down and locking onto where Jimmy’s cock is trapped in his pants. With a single swipe of his claws, the fabric is cut off, and his length is free, nearly drooping down from the weight of his arousal. It’s so fucking… massive. Revenant lets go of Jimmy so he can wrap his claws around it, shuddering. It’s much much bigger than the biggest dilator he has… and fuck, he’s never wanted something inside him so bad.

Forge is gasping, his paws settling on Revenant’s shoulders, mostly to ground himself as Revenant plays with his cock. The King rubs the head, coating his hand in the liberal amounts of pre drooling from the tip, before he strokes it slowly, like he’s learned from Makoa.

Another low whine, and Revenant feels a vigor feel him: he strokes with purpose now, even and steady, marveled at how the length seems to swell further. Fuck, God, he wants that inside him now.

Revenant scoots back onto the bed, settling in his nest of pillows. And his form shifts to something more glistening-- gilded with golds and silvers, a look fit for a King. His cunt is pulsing with arousal, a flushed purple now and delectable. Jimmy wants to service his King; just spend the entire evening on his knees with his snout buried into that perfect valve.

But Revenant clearly has something different in mind.

He carefully presses a claw at his opening, shuddering at how it still gapes slightly from the earlier session he had. And God, Jimmy is really gonna stretch him out proper, huh? The thought makes him eager for more, to hurry up and get that beast’s cock inside and fucking him until he’s ruined. Revenant unlocks his hip joints, spreading his legs wider so he can accommodate Jimmy’s massive size. The beast shuffles forward, his tongue hanging out as he pants lewdly.

Revenant stupidly thinks he wants to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves to press two fingers against his clit, groaning openly as he rubs in slow, shaking circles. Soaked. “Fuck me,” he orders in a husky voice, and Forge jumps him, his paws gripping his slender hips and nudging the fat tip of his cock at his gaping cunt.

And when he pushes in, just a bit too fast and a bit too eager, Revenant tenses, gasping and immediately trying to pull away. But then Jimmy is licking his neck and whining in his auditory receptors, and Revenant relaxes when he can feel the warm beast enveloping him in a tight, furry hug. He shudders and can’t help how his valve spasms, inch after inch of Forge’s cock being grinded inside by Jimmy’s minute little thrusts.

“Sl-slow down--!” Revenant groans, shuddering and hiding his face in Forge’s chest. Jimmy whines, but he does as he’s told, his pace slowing down to nothing, cock throbbing inside of the King. Already, he feels like he’s being split in two, Revenant shaking as he tries to adjust. Forge isn’t even all the way in, half way if that. The King wonders if he’s in over his head…

But not to be outdone or bested, he takes a deep, stuttery breath, relaxing the best he can. “O-okay, you can move--” And no sooner has he said that, Jimmy is already pushing in deeper, shaking and whimpering, tears brimming in his eyes as he sinks into the tight, molten hot cunt of his King. Fuck, the urge to breed and fill is so damn strong, he can feel his cock swell even larger as he shuffles the last couple inches inside.

Revenant is panting raggedly, his mind empty and blank, focused only on the massive girth nudging its way deep inside his aching cunt. It burns in such a good way, Revenant already knows he’s gonna be addicted to this. Addicted to how much Forge fills him, how much that goddamn cock seems to spread his valve open and ruin it for any other toy, anything else Revenant could use. A low, needy whine spills from his voice box, and that sets Forge off.

The beast digs his claws into the King, and he begins to pull out, snarling softly at how Rev’s valve seems to grip him tight, unwilling to let him pull free. But he does, until only the drooling, hot tip is still speared inside of his King, and then he’s snapping his hips forwards, leaning down to lap at Revenant’s neck, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

And fuck, does Revenant feel like one. The way his cunt is sopping wet, the plush silicone stretched to the very limits, his clit throbbing and his circuits going haywire with arousal-- God, it hurts so good. Revenant isn’t sure whether he wants to cry or scream, but fuck, he might be on the edge of both. His whole body is on fire with this burning need, and fuck, he wishes he could spend the rest of eternity bent over. Just a waiting hole begging to be used, filled by his court.

That thought makes him feel like he might literally short-circuit.

Jimmy seems to lose his patience, because now his massive paws are gripping Revenant’s hips, tight enough to snap bone, and isn’t that thrill of danger arousing on its own? He’s panting loud, drooling onto Revenant’s shoulder, and he would scold him if there wasn’t a fat cock spearing him open, rearranging his insides in a fucking addicting way. Each thrust only picks up speed, only increases in power, and the painful burn of the stretch is melting away quickly.

Their coupling is nothing but messy and desperate. Wet slapping of his furry thighs against the slick metal, copious amounts of their pre mixing into a disgusting mess that Rev would hate any other time, but fuck, he just wants more. He wants to feel it. Feel Jimmy cum inside him, dump his cum like he was no more than a fucktoy, and stuff him so full it leaks from him like he’s a seasoned whore.

Revenant hiccups, his voice box static and struggling to make noise as his systems attempt to override errors, and find something to say. A particularly hard thrust seems to jumpstart his voice box again. A sharp sob is punched out of him, and he digs his claws into Jimmy’s shoulders, his eyes glowing bright as he stares up at the beast fucking him, filling his cunt and snapping into him sharp and powerful: he’s not gonna be able to move later.

Jimmy slows down suddenly, and Revenant snarls in frustration, squirming and shaking as he growls, “What the hell are you doing--?”

“You’re c-crying?” Forge’s voice is a shaking rumble, as he nuzzles his snout against Revenant’s burning hot face. He sniffs him, before he laps slow at his face, mumbling, “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“I’m fucking-- fine--” But the King quickly wipes at his face, surprised to feel hot liquid pooling from his sockets. Tears. His tears? Why is he crying? Revenant wants to ignore the reasons-- maybe it’s this warmth swelling in his heart when Jimmy cradles him, trying to comfort him. Fuck, he didn’t want to face this. He’s never wanted to face this. He wanted to avoid it, ignore how each second with Jimmy made him feel… complete.

Fuck emotions.

So Revenant tangles his claws into the fur on Forge’s head, yanking him down and snarling, “Shut the fuck up, and fucking destroy me already.” He rolls his hips once, and his pretty pet gets the hint. He picks up right where he left off, a fucking harsh pace that shoves a fat cock deeper into him. Revenant’s head falls back, as he gets lost in the feeling. Brutally filling him up and making him feel stretched beyond belief. His voice box is shaky as he mewls, panting, “Fuck-- fuck, harder, please, please--!!”

One of his hands moves down, claws rubbing at his clit and shuddering at the rocketing jolts of pleasure. His cunt is spilling copious amounts of lubricant, spilling out of his abused valve and only making each thrust sloppier. He feels so fucking used, and he wants more, more, he wants to be ruined after that.

And then Revenant notices how Forge is shuddering and holding him tighter, and something thick is at the base of his cock, nudging at his cunt. Fat, hot, and bigger than a fist, it feels. Revenant whimpers in confusion, his legs shaking as he tries to arch and look, to see what the hell is going on with that cock. But Jimmy isn’t letting up, letting out a low growl as he keeps slamming deep into the King.

“McCormick--!” Revenant tries to get his attention, but then a particularly harsh thrust forces the thickest part of the cock-- the knot as Revenant realizes rather abruptly-- inside his abused valve. The shadow King yelps sharply, and his orgasm hits him harsh and quick, the pain and pleasure colliding like a fucking explosion. His vision goes white, and he hears only a ringing in his ears, his voice box shorting out.

He feels his cum gush out around the knot stuffing him full, squirting lubricant over their thighs and practically staining the bed, and he manages a weak, static sob as he feels the waves rolling over him, constant and unending. It tapers off to a powerful throbbing, the King shaking. Jimmy is growling as his hips fuck quick, shallow thrusts, trying to get that knot deeper inside of his mate.

Mate.

Revenant whimpers again, his legs trying to spread wider, his cunt feeling so goddamn full that he can’t think of anything else. He wants to be bred, he wants more, more-- More, more, more, fuck me goddamit, f-fucking fill me, cum inside me-- His voice echoes inside of Forge’s head, and that seems to spur him for more.

Each thrust forces the knot deeper and deeper, and that already massive cock feels so deep, it’s drowning Rev in only lust. He could do a role swap in theory-- making Jimmy the nice and powerful King, and he the slut whose cunt is always waiting, dripping for his knot. Revenant hiccups again, and he manages to gasp, “Jimmy, please--”

That seems to set off his beast, and his pace grows erratic, as he practically bends Revenant in half biting down on his metal shoulder. The snapping of metal is muted by Forge’s intense groan, and his cock pulses before he cums, spilling deep inside of his King and shuddering, tail thumping against his legs.

Revenant whimpers and shakes feeling the heat bloom in his cunt, trapped inside by the fat knot deep inside him. Bred and pumped full like a nice little bitch. And the thought alone sets him off, making him shake and whimper as another orgasm rolls through his frame. He shudders, panting and gasping, ember eyes locking with Jimmy’s glinting greens. And the beast leans down, to wrap his powerful arms around Revenant, and hold him close, keeping his cock nestled deep inside him. And for a long time, they just lay together, the beast lapping at his King and whimpering softly when he realized he broke something on his King.

But Revenant? He feels calm, full and warm, and perfectly safe. And he closes his eyes and nestles into the fur. And he allows himself to cry.

Feeling safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


	8. Wraith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: (Flashback: Abuse, Kidnapping, Torture, Death) Pining, Masturbation, Aphrodisiacs, Consensual Drugging, Sounding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Trans HC

The King’s Court consists of many things, of many people.

There’s plenty of parts that make the machine run well, and each does their delegated tasks as Revenant needs. Despite his outbursts and tempers, he really is a kind, benevolent King. He treats them well, and gives them everything they could ever need and want.

Renee is no exception. Since her arrival, anything she’s wished for was granted. A house far enough away for her to have privacy she wanted, a personal prowler to guard the perimeter, materials to use for her work-- even an assistant that she may have… developed a connection with. How could she be faulted for that, though? Natalie was a sweet girl with a soft smile, and Renee was quickly infatuated with how she giggled, and how she eased Renee from her awkward silence, and quickly Natalie comforted her to the point where even the whispering in her head would become still.

And their King was nothing but kind with the blessings and agreement to move them to a larger place to house the both of them. Natalie was an inventor, and Renee was a witch. Science and magic were two sides of one coin, and they found each other stimulating and lovely to work with, to connect with. To experiment with.

It certainly was a nice change compared to what she used to be.

Renee was always interested in the idea of magic and the occult. A little girl growing up in a nameless household she can’t even remember, sitting alone in the fields at playtime and speaking softly to the Earth and creatures. Tying bundles of fresh collected plants and writing down various recipes and “happies” as she used to call them, in a book she would later repurpose as her very first spellbook. It was her mother’s side which had the “gift” as her great granny told her. Funny how she can’t remember their names or faces anymore, but she can remember everything when it came to her abilities.

Of course, like all children do, she was shamed out of her interest in mixing herbs together or wandering in the forest with the trees as a playmate. She hid her “happies” and she threw the book in a trunk, and focused on education like her ruthless father expected. Graduating with masters was an achievement she barely remembered.

Her memories were funny like that. Blended into nothing and then at times, so specific she could remember the color of her socks that day. The Syndicate jumped on the opportunity of a scientist fresh out of college with grades high enough to reach the stars. Inexperience was their saving grace, otherwise she might have never joined them.

Promises of good pay and stimulating work encouraged her to leave home with just a single suitcase, and they housed her and paid her and set up a nice apartment that was all her own. Later, she learned it was nothing more than those shit tanks they tote around as “perfect” for betas in the pet store. Suffocating, small, and only her downfall.

And she fell right in line with the other scientists, specifically assigned to study what they would call the “Void.” It was rather interesting, and she found herself sucked into work. Studying it more intensely, working longer and later hours than her peers. There was this… connection she felt to it. So intense, she dug through her suitcase until she found the old leather-bound book she received as a child; filled with her “happies.”

Her spells. Her spellbook. And magic and science began to blend into one.

She felt such a draw to the Void, unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Sure, the call of the forest and the whispers of the ocean were always there, echoing inside her mind like whispers of an old lover. But the Void truly sang to her heart. And she dedicated every second she could in order to unlock it. To find what was hers, and hers alone.

The Syndicate would catch on that she had ulterior motives sooner than she anticipated. Especially when she began to do extra research, extra experiments they didn’t clear for approval. Still, she was always surprised when she got away with it-- naively assuming they just trusted her judgement. With every breakthrough, with every new set of data, she could feel herself getting closer and closer.

Closer to home.

Of course, each step towards the Void only strengthens the magic already flowing beneath her skin. She finds it seeping out slow and steady, like the ebbing of a tide, in the way plants flourish in her office, and how the lab animals warm up right to her, when previously they wouldn’t even respond to the scientists. She was different, and each day she spent looking into the Void, and writing more and more spells in her free time only seemed to strengthen that.

The breakthrough was bittersweet. The second they had any sort of breach into the Void, she found armed soldiers at her office moments later, and they drugged her and took her to a dark room beneath the facility.

Her memories get a bit hazy there. She wouldn’t be able to tell you how long she spent there. How many times they poked her with needles and hooked her to machines, hoping to find some source of her abilities. She likes to think a lot of it was erased from her mind by the Syndicate directly. And she’ll keep it that way. Sometimes, the lack of memories haunt her, but ultimately, she feels it was the better decision. What she can remember was cold, and lifeless. She’s sure any longer and her magic would have escaped her, abandoning her beneath the Syndicate labs to rot away.

Renee does remember the very day she first died, vividly even. Down to how many bruises she had on her arms, how many blown veins from countless IVs and blood drawn. She can even remember how many track marks she could count. She felt drugged to hell when the power went out, and the chains around her wrists and throat unlocked. But she awoke like life was whispered to her, for just a second.

She had jolted up, gasping loudly like a drowning man at the feeling of air filling her lungs fully for the first time in months, perhaps years. She is shaking, cold and hot all at once, and the only light is distant. Far enough away that she can barely see it. The tubes are torn from her arms, and she falls off the table, tears rolling down her thin face as she stares. The light called to her. And in her heart, she knew it was home.

The Void.

And Renee crawled like her life depended on it. Which it did. The cold floor burned and stung, and later, it was because she dragged her weak frame through shattered glass. The lab had been desecrated and torn apart by a lost demon of the Syndicate. She can hardly breath, hardly move, each movement more labored than the last. But she continues to crawl, heaving and wheezing as the call of the Void entices her close. And whispers in her mind blossom for the first time, telling her countless things.

Hurry, they’re coming for you.  
You have to leave now.  
You will die if you do not get out.  
He’s going to be there, you have to get to him.  
She’s waiting for you.

Renee can barely see, tears blinding her vision, but each time she digs her nails into the tile and drags her body closer to the calling emptiness, she feels the life seep from her. So close, but so far. She sobs out, reaching as the Void tries to reach to her. But she’s not close enough.

She can’t do this alone.

Claws sink into the fabric of her gown, and she is lifted like a ragdoll, into burning hot nothingness. Shadows curl and wisp around her, and she can barely find the strength to look up, into the burning eyes of Hell itself. And he holds her tight, standing before the Void as he looks on into the blackness.

You will not win the fight here. But the Void is ready for you to fight another day. Let me take you home.

And Renee closes her eyes, relief flooding her weak form, and she dies in the next breath for the very first time, as the King holds her close. And he steps through the portal with her corpse. The coldness of the Void is the first thing she feels when the King breathes life into her again. She awakens with a start, fear flooding her as she looks around, only to see darkness. And when she cries out, she feels a burning hand cup hers, and his voice echoing in the blackness.

“The Void is here for you, Renee. You are safe here.”

Renee is breathing harshly, like she can’t get enough air in her lungs. It feels strange, breathing here. Like she’s underwater, but not drowning. She can hardly see the King; his form as black as the emptiness save for the cracks of Hellfire running through his frame. His embers bore into her, but even now, she can see the concern in his gaze, in the way he holds her hand.

“What they did to you will never be forgiven. But you are free now. You are not their toy anymore.”

His voice both speaks aloud and echoes inside her skull, similar to the whispers: now so prominent she can barely think. But it’s comforting, in some ways. It drowns out the memories of her own voice, screaming and begging for help, for mercy. She twitches slightly, flinching away when the King reaches his hand for her face.

He very quickly drops it, and he hums softly, standing up. With a soft wave of his wand, he brings up another portal, revealing a dark nightscape of a Canyon. Renee perks up, staring quietly as the King turns back to her.

“I will leave you here. You have all you need to go where you wish. But should you find a need for somewhere to call home, my Court could always use another mind like yours.”

His shadows are more visible, strangely enough, in the illumination of the portal. He is grand and graceful, all things a King should be, as he watches sitting on both nothing and everything it feels like. The Void shifts as she needs it, bringing her up to a standing position when her legs refuse to work. She stumbles, but the Void holds her still, and she mumbles softly, “Who… are you?”

“I am the King of that realm. Of Kings’ Canyon.”

His eyes flicker over to the open portal, at where his Court and home lay. He looks back to her, and when his eyes meet hers, the whispers spike, making her wince and look away.

Go with him.  
If you stay here, you will be alone.  
It’s safer to be alone.  
He’s waiting for you.  
She’s waiting for you.  
Go into the portal, you will thrive there.

Renee groans softly, rubbing her head as she stares into nothing. The Void. It’s her home. But now that she’s here, it feels so… wrong. Like she was never meant to stay here. Maybe another version of her would belong here, but not her. Despite the pain, despite the fear, she wills herself to walk, stumbling forward until the King hurries to catch her frame, alarmed.

“Take me with you,” She mumbles, eyes closing. She feels so tired, like she could sleep for years here, in the Void. “Take me there. To that Canyon. It’s nice here, but the view isn’t anything to die for.” And when Revenant chuckles, she feels some of that fear melt away. Just a little.

Renee dies a second time when she leaves the Void in his arms, her wounds unpaused and her frame still weakened from the months-- years?-- of endless torture. And Revenant stays by her side until he gifts life into her once more, his shadows wrapping her injuries in warmth that heals like nothing she’s ever felt. The King stays by her side until the risk of death is nothing more than a distant memory, etched into her mind like a scar.

But Revenant is good with healing those.

Years help erase the physical wounds, and time eases the pain of mental trauma. Over time, the whispers inside the Witch’s mind become nothing more than an afterthought-- an ever-present force she learns to trust. And with that time, the King grants her a new name when she feels nothing but the hollowness of a life before the Void with Renee.

Wraith.

She learns quickly how little she wants to do with the rest of the Court. She finds Ramya and Jimmy too loud, and Ajay and Makoa too happy, and Anita is… intense. Of course, she likes them, but not enough to find a constant companion ship with them. Natalie of course she connects with quickly, finding a friend and a lover in her. And even though she finds the Trickster annoying, he's fun to hang with now and then. No, her days find her locked in her home, dragged deep into the further study of magic and the Void, with Natalie at her side.

Natalie and Wraith tell everything to each other. Which is why when Natalie requests her help with some tools, she is… admittedly curiously. They talk endlessly when Natalie builds the tools for Anita, coy back and forth that only makes her want to kiss her lover till she can’t work. But certainly, the thought of Revenant in a sexual sense doesn’t really cross her mind until Natalie starts to build projects for her personal studies.

As always, Wraith is an eager test subject. Watching her love go off to run her tests, she’s curious for the results. And when Natalie returns, she jumps Wraith in seconds, and doesn’t really give her a chance to ask questions until they’re both nude and the Witch has bleeding bite marks littering her pale skin. Natalie’s got an incense stick burning now as she returns to bed, kissing Wraith deeply and giggling when her girlfriend cups her breasts and mumbles incoherently.

“You sure were turned on.” Wraith had managed to stutter out, and Natalie giggles.

“I could not help it, mon cherie. The experiments with our King was a complete success~” She coos, nuzzling her face and dragging her fangs across a particularly tasty-looking unmarked patch of skin.

To say she was interested would be an understatement.

Wraith was always interested in learning. And Natalie running some sort of sexual experiment on the King jump started an interest for her. She always viewed Revenant as completely nonsexual, but from Natalie’s data, it wasn’t true at all. He was “sexually inexperienced” as Nat put it, but completely receptive compared to other types of approaches or positive emotions.

Sex wasn’t therapy. But maybe for Rev, it was way more helpful.

So Wraith throws together some ideas, run them by Natalie, and when even the whispering seems approving, she takes the initiative to schedule a meeting with Revenant, at 8 o’ clock sharp. No sooner, no later. Wraith liked schedules afterall. It was a way to hold some control over her crazy life. So once she’s finished running the test trials with Natalie, she gives her used cock a nice little smooch and leaves her napping, happily drained. And Wraith takes a messenger bag full of gear, potions, and her spellbook, and heads off after dressing.

A modest, but form-fitting black turtleneck dress, ending just at her knees, with black stockings to match. And she uses some of Natalie’s black lipstick and finishes off her outfit with her black hat. She heads off to her King’s cavern, thankful when she doesn’t run into anyone.

Wraith rarely dresses up, and having to explain why would be a bit mortifying. She wanders quietly through the winding, tight halls of the caves, only coming across the Knight at the front, whom she ignores, and Makoa, who doesn’t notice her as she passes, too engrossed in fixing up some of the King’s robes.

She ends up at the dark curtains to his room approximately 3 minutes early, waiting quietly outside. But noise inside gets her attention-- shuffling of bedsheets and a soft growl.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“C’mon-- just a little bit of kissing ain’t gonna kill ya, Revvy~”

“I have an appointment in a few minutes.”

“We can get something done in a few minutes~ You’re already all worked up, wouldn’t take long~”

“Shut the hell up, and get out of here you dirty animal.”

Wraith flushes lightly when she realizes who is with him-- the King’s concubine. They must have been fooling around just before she arrived. Well, if she hurried back through the tunnel, she could pretend she just arrived there by the time Jimmy moves out of the room--

But then she hears a loud slap, and a yelp, and Revenant snarling, “Down, get out, you pervert!!” And Jimmy stumbles out, bright red and snorting slightly. He slows a bit when he sees her, eyes widening in surprise and quickly turns to hide his very obvious erection, clearing his throat.

“Rev, she’s here!!” And Jimmy’s rushing off, probably to go hump something. Wraith clears her throat, her cheeks warm, and Revenant sighs, annoyed and frustrated.

“One minute-- Fuckin’ hell…” And there’s some shuffling before he calls, “Enter.” And Wraith does, noting the messy bed and how Revenant is formless, shadows to probably hide whatever he was doing in his previous form. His ember eyes are averted, and he huffs, “You’re early.”

“By a minute. I would hope you know better by now than to expect me late,” She replies cooly, ignoring how the whispering picks up inside her mind.

He was trying to have sex.  
You interrupted them.  
If you were earlier, you could have seen them.  
He’s aroused, hurry up and do something.

Revenant hums in agreement, his form melting into something comfortable, that she instantly recognizes as Ramya inspired. Blue and grey, with a soft, fabric hood brought up and over his head. He looks rather cozy, if Wraith had to say so. She can’t help but admire it for a moment, temporarily forgetting why she’s here. Until he clears his throat, slightly flushed that she’s staring at him.

He recognizes the lipstick on her lips, and fuck, it shouldn’t turn him on but it does. He can’t help it; it reminds him of Natalie and how easily she turned him into a melted mess. Working two fingers slowly into him, and marking his metal with those dark marks, her coy smile etched into his memories. And Makoa had found them later, when he went to bathe his King, and ooh, did he enjoy smearing the makeup when he got his fingers inside of Revenant--

The King feels an explosion of heat inside him, for sure making the room unbearable, and he coughs, looking at anywhere but her. God, he feels like he’s become quite the slut. From Ramya’s weekly “maintenance”-- which is really just her finding an excuse to get her hands all over his sensitive core-- to Ajay’s weekly exams-- where she has him demonstrate how he uses his dilators and ended up prescribing him larger sizes when she learned about how gifted Jimmy was-- everyone seems to get their hands on him and turn him into this needy little whore.

He should really stop expecting that.

Which doesn’t stop him from being surprised when Wraith bluntly states, “You had sex with Natalie. I wanted to see what that was like for myself.” She’s got a straight, even face, but her red cheeks betray emotion. It would make Revenant laugh if he already weren’t squirming for something more than Jimmy’s heavy petting. Instead, he huffs.

“You want to have sex with me?” He mumbles, tilting his head to one side. Wraith laughs, she can’t help it. The idea of having sex with Revenant of all people is humorous, but not outright absurd. She’s never thought of him that way, but damn, if she’s not curious. She doesn’t reply right away, moving closer and setting the bag on his desk. She withdraws a couple containers and a nondescript black case. Revenant feels a twinge of arousal just from seeing that, thinking about the case housing his new set of dilators he’s barely gotten around to trying.

She continues to empty her bag, finding an empty, large glass bottle that she uncaps. Then, she proceeds to mix the various contents of the other containers into this one, one hand to pour and the other slowly waving above the bottle, whispering softly in an ancient tongue.

Revenant’s pretty sure he could cum just from listening to her work her magic.

Thankfully, she doesn’t work on her spell for long. There’s a small flash of light, and behind is a bottle of pink liquid, sparkling with swirls of red floating inside it. She caps it carefully after pouring off some into a smaller, heart-shaped bottle that Natalie got for her, and then she opens the black case. Inside are three metal rods, each larger than the last. They vaguely remind Revenant of dilators, but he thinks those would be far too thin for that kind of fun.

Wraith lifts the heart shaped bottle, and she carefully approaches him, holding it out to him. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” When she doesn’t answer, Revenant huffs, but he’s damn curious, and it does look pretty. So he brings it close to his metal lips, inhaling the scent first. It reminds him of lemon and blackberry mint tea, which is something he remembers so vividly from his previous life. He takes another deep breath, and then it smells of clean metal and flowers, which makes him flush.

He tilts his head back, pouring the liquid inside his mouth, making sure to alter his form slightly so the shadows inside would become saturated with the sparkling liquid. It’s thick but not too much, and its flavors hit him like a freight train. The sweet tea he remembers so sharply, then cookies like he used to eat as a child, then the sweet taste of cherry chapstick. Mixing in a way that shouldn’t be pleasant, but it is. And as soon as he’s finished it, he’s hit with a sharp burst of arousal.

He cries out in surprise, dropping the bottle-- which Wraith catches thankfully. But his panels both click open automatically, and his hand moves down quickly, shuddering as he rubs his clit in quick, need circles. His other hand wraps around his cock, and he strokes, hoping to alleviate the powerful arousal coursing through him. But it only makes him moan like he’s a real slut, and he can’t stop touching himself.

“It worked,” Wraith mumbles to herself, and Revenant, who feels ashamed from touching himself and being so openly lewd in front of her, can only whimper in response.

What did y-you do to me?

His voice echoing inside her head is just as pleading and desperate, and she watches curiously as he furiously tries to chase an orgasm, shivering and throwing his head back. He’s whimpering and leaking all over his sheets, dark blue lubricant leaking from his swollen cunt.

“An aphrodisiac. I wanted to see if it would work on you.” Wraith moves to sit on the bed besides Revenant, who whimpers when she bats his hand away from his cock. She grasps the slick length in her hand, stroking once and noting how he wails and thrusts into her grip, the pleasure only amplified by her spell.

Well it f-fucking did-- God I’ve never felt so fucking horny in my fucking l-life!

Revenant continues to rub his clit in quick circles, growling and head falling to one side. “D-do… something… pl-please…” He manages to grit out between whines, eyes shutting. Wraith hums, swirling her palm around the head of his cock and watching how his whole body jerks. She tilts her head in thought.

“Do you know what sounding is?”

Very quickly, Revenant learns what it is by example.

She’s liberally lubed his cock and the metal rod with his own slick, and that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it did, but it does. Of course, he’s nervous, afraid almost when she’s got the rod placed at the head of his cock, teasing the thin hole and watching carefully as it gently dips inside.

Revenant would be thrashing if she didn’t preemptively use her magic to bind him to the bed, with his arms above his head, legs spread wide, and hips still so he wouldn’t buck into her touch. The heavy arousal is still coursing through him, and he’s whimpering endlessly now. As scared as he is for trying this, he wishes she would already do it, and maybe shove some fingers inside his needy cunt too.

But Wraith has a stupid amount of patience, and she waits until Revenant’s breathing has evened out more, and he seems to grow still. Then she lightly pushes the rod in deeper, and once she feels it’s properly slipping inside, she lets gravity do the rest-- the rod sinking down inside of Revenant’s aching cock.

It feels almost invasive, and filling in a way that he’s not used to. But it feels good when he’s not got anything more than a couple courtesy strokes to keep him hard. He grunts and shudders, eyes squeezed shut as the rod sinks in deep, until it seems to hit as deep as it can go. And Wraith gently taps the end, which still has a good couple inches sticking out.

“You took that easier than I thought.” She noted, gently twisting the rod and watching how he tenses and whines. Natalie had a much harder time, but her cock is smaller than Revenant’s. He has a thick, fat cock, the hole stretching open nice and easy for the thin metal. She knew if he weren’t bound by the magic holding him, he would be fucking up into nothing, chasing the feeling. She can sense it, can tell by how minutely his hips twitch upward.

“F-fuckin-- God-- it feels--” But Revenant can’t find the words. Instead, all he can do is squirm and pant. When she gently begins to pull the rod out, then thrusts it back inside, Revenant screams, his head throwing back and hiccuping. “G-God-- please, it’s-- fuck--!” He can already feel his orgasm rapidly building from the new sensation, and he feels like he would have cum already if there wasn’t a fucking metal rod inside of his dick, preventing him. He shudders and huffs, “Please-- fuckin-- I need to cum--”

“Not yet.” Wraith moves her hand away from his dick, dragging two of her fingers through his slick so she can start lubricating the next size up. She didn’t think he would be able to take the final size, but he definitely was ready for this one. She tested it with a couple more thrusts, enjoying how his voice box seems to short-circuit and his whole body convulses, right there on the edge of cumming, but just not enough.

So Wraith scoops more lubricant onto her fingers and finishes coating the larger rod in a sufficient amount, and she waits until Revenant looks less like he’s gonna straight up cum the second she pulls the other out, his frame slowly easing on the shaking and tenseness, and his hiccups slowing. One hand grasps the end of the first rod, and she removes it a bit too quick than she wanted, but he seems to respond positively, with a soft cry and chasing for the full feeling again.

And with the other hand, she presses the lubed tip of the thicker one, which is slightly ribbed. She can tell he notices the difference when she presses the first rib inside, Revenant sobbing and shaking. His cock jerks, he’s close, nearly there, and so she lets the first rod drop to the bed so she can grip the base, whispering something that sends a numbness washing through Revenant’s frame.

He whimpers in frustration, but it seems enough to starve off the orgasm, and he looks so angry at her for denying that she can’t help the grin quirking at her lips. She restores feeling to him just as she presses the next few ribs in, watching gleefully how his eyes roll back and he moans, low and slutty like he’s been trained. And the voices whisper low to her in response.

He’s been slutty.  
He’s slept with so many of the others, what a good boy.  
He barely took cock a few days ago, we should fix that.  
I wonder how many of the others could fuck him at once?  
He’s beautiful, just like her, isn’t he?

The last one catches her off guard, she lets go of the rod in surprise, and it sinks slowly into his cock, making him howl out and jerk violently against the magical bonds. “Fucking God--!! Please, please, I want to c-cum, it’s too much!!” He sobs, form beginning to wisp and fray at the edges from how overwhelmed he was. Wraith regains her composure, eyes glowing white as Void crackles at her fingertips. She touches the rod carefully, the energy slowly spreading through the metal and through Revenant’s cock. The feeling makes him tense and shake, his systems warning him of a pending overload.

Fuck, he just wanted to cum so bad. But Wraith whispers, “Just a little longer,” as she begins to fuck the thicker rod into his cock. It’s wet and sloppy and stretched just a bit more, and Revenant feels so debased and used and whorish that he can only moan and tremble, the strange feeling nothing but pleasure now. He wanted to be stuffed full, in both holes until he can’t breath. But he can only sob and whimper, unable to vocalize his wants.

Wraith strokes his cock now, thrusting the rod deep with each stroke, smiling softly, “You’ve been so good, you’ve given me so much, I can’t wait until I can make you cum. Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”

Revenant can only nod, feeling heat swell inside his body as his climax teeters so fucking close to the edge. Each thrust of the rod makes his voice box strain, static and shorted out, and he tries to focus his energy to speak to her.

Pleasepleaseplease fucking let me cum, please I’ve been so good please please please--!! I’m so close, Wraith, god, untie me please, make me cum, pleaseplease Wraithwraithwraithwraithwraith--!!

Wraith quickly pulls the rod from his cock, and she strokes his cock quickly now, leaning down and whispering, “Cum, cum for me now.” She undoes the magical bond with a simple blink and opens her mouth, tongue lolling out, eyes locking with his.

Cum for me. She commands, projecting her voice into his head.

And Revenant tenses, and with a loud sob, his climax hits him, his cum painting her tongue and chin, and she swallows it down with a soft hum, eyes fluttering shut. She continues to jerk his cock, until each rope of cum is coaxed to a thin dribble, and he’s shaking from the overstimulation, panting and whimpering, his form fading. Wraith lets go of his cock, wiping the cum off her face, tilting her head.

“You did good.” She whispers, and Revenant feels a warmth blossom inside his chest. And when she leans down, and leaves a black lipstick mark on his cheek, well…

He realizes how nice it is to feel loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> candy-diick is my tumblr


End file.
